Blood Brothers
by Sheherazade's Fable
Summary: XMFC AU. Takes place after 'True Colors.' As the children of Charles and Moira, David and Kurt Xavier lead idyllic lives in Westchester. However, nothing can ever be simple or perfect when you grow up with the X-Men, and every family has its secrets. Canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1

September 2, 1977

David tossed and turned under his covers. It was dark out, and he didn't like the thunder. At seven years old he knew that the thunder wasn't anything to be scared of. Ororo, who watched him sometimes when his parents were busy now that Annie was gone, went around holding it in her hands. It wasn't a big deal.

He rolled onto his stomach and gripped his pillow as another bolt lit up the sky. He bit his lip, wishing that he could go and find his mother and father. They would always hold him when he was scared, let him sleep in their bed if he had nightmares. It was a perfect safe haven. All he had to do was go down the hall.

Now he couldn't do that. They were gone to some conference or another, and they had been gone for almost a week. He wasn't completely sure why. They had called a lot, but it wasn't the same. They said that they would be back the next morning. David had counted the days. The clock told him that it was still too early though.

David buried his face even further as the thunder continued. The pillow muffled his whimpers. He wished the thunder would stop soon. He wished even more that his parents would come home early. He didn't like that they were gone. He didn't understand why they had to go in the first place. David never understood when his parents had to leave. It didn't happen often, and it had never been more than a day. It was why their new absence made him so scared.

A noise from outside made him stiffen. He clutched his pillow tighter and his eyes went to the door. David couldn't imagine who was up now. Everyone else was asleep. He wished that he could go to sleep too.

The footsteps stopped outside his door. David sat up, clutching his pillow to his chest. He could see the shadows moving, and he considered crying out. Sean and Terry were down the hall. They would hear. Sean and Terry might have better voices for screaming, but he knew he could wake them up.

The door opened. He relaxed immediately.

"Why are you up Kurt?" he asked.

Kurt looked up at him with wide golden eyes. One of his hands was up near his mouth so that he could suck on his fingers. His other hand cuddled a big teddy bear close to him while his tail swished lazily behind him.

His brother's fingers left his mouth.

"Scawed," he said.

David frowned. His three-year-old brother had developed a slight lisp, and he had a tendency to murmur quietly instead of talking loudly. Despite everything, he had little trouble understanding his brother.

"What, of the thunder?" he asked.

Kurt nodded.

"Want mama. Want daddy," he said.

"They're not here," David said.

"Want them," Kurt said.

"Don't look at me: I'm not hiding them," David said.

Kurt didn't say anything. David wondered what to say as another bolt of thunder lit up the night. Kurt whimpered and buried his face in his teddy bear. David clutched his pillow, but the sight of his brother cowering with his teddy bear undid him.

He slid out of his bed, swallowing and leaving his pillow behind. David walked up to Kurt and put his hands on his shoulders. Kurt peeked up from over his teddy bear.

"I've got you," David said.

Kurt nodded, still clutching his teddy bear. David looked around the room for inspiration on what to say next. Suddenly it all felt too stifling, as though the room was trying to enhance the thunder that echoed across the night.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

Kurt gave him a confused look. David reached out and grabbed his brother's wrist. He knew that Kurt's fingers would be sticky: he didn't know how long his brother had been sucking on his fingers. David didn't want to get all sticky.

"Come on," he said.

He pulled his brother down the hallway. Kurt didn't resist. He heard Kurt's tail swishing over the top of the carpet. David had always thought that Kurt's tail was far too long for him. His brother didn't quite have control over it yet, so sometimes it would flip out unexpectedly. The tip was becoming sharp, so David had taken great care to avoid it. His mother had begun talking about padding it out.

They took the stairs slowly. The steps were still a little big for Kurt. David had seen his mother holding both of Kurt's hands, helping him go up and down the steps. David could just remember her doing the same for him when he was little. It was a good memory.

Together they made their way to the kitchen. They walked past the library as another flash of thunder lit up the room. David threw himself behind the wall just as his brother buried his face in his shoulder, his hands clutching at David's arm.

David stared at him for a moment. His brother had come to him for protection. He hesitated, and then hugged him.

"It's just thunder," he said, hoping he sounded braver than he felt, "Ororo does it all the time."

Kurt looked up at him, his golden eyes still frightened.

"Just thunder," he said, "Now come on."

His brother didn't say anything. David finished leading Kurt into the kitchen. He shook Kurt's hand off his arm. Immediately Kurt's sticky fingers shot out and wrapped around his hand.

"No," Kurt said.

"Ew," David said, looking at his brother's sticky fingers, "Gross. Let go."

"No," Kurt said.

"Let go," David said.

Tears welled in Kurt's eyes. David sighed. His brother cried a lot. He always did it really quietly though, so David had to watch carefully to see when he started. If he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't catch it.

"Give me two seconds," David said, "Then you can hold my hand all you want, okay?"

Kurt stared at him for a moment, and then let go. David grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter and pulled himself up. His foot swung for a moment before he found purchase on the cabinet handle. He pushed up from it and scrambled onto the counter.

He reached upwards. His fingertips brushed the top of the cabinet. David jumped up slightly and grabbed the edge of the package he knew was there. He continued to inch it towards him until half of it was hanging over the top of the cabinet.

David boosted himself up a final time before he grabbed the package of oreos. He put it onto the countertop and then wiggled himself down again. One boost later he picked up the oreos and tucked them under his arm.

"They think I don't know where they are," David said.

He jumped down, his feet hitting the tile. Kurt reached out and grabbed his hand. David sighed. He would have to give up the hope that his hand wouldn't be covered with his brother's spit.

"Come on," he said.

He led Kurt into the library. David put the package of oreos onto the sofa and pulled himself up. Kurt was still clutching his hand, so it was a bit more difficult. He had the feeling that he wouldn't be able to convince Kurt to let go again.

When they were both on the sofa he opened the package.

"Have as many as you want," David said, "You won't get into trouble. I won't tell."

Kurt hesitated before grabbing two oreos. He stuffed them into his mouth, his sharp fangs biting them into little bits. Cookie crumbs sprayed all over the front of his pajamas. David grinned and picked up an oreo with his free hand. He picked his apart, licking up the icing before popping both cookie halves into his mouth.

There was another flash of thunder. Kurt drew into himself. David was starting to feel annoyed with the thunder now.

"It's just stupid thunder," David said, "It's not gonna hurt you."

Kurt just peered over the top of his teddy bear.

"I'm not gonna let it," David said.

The words came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. Kurt blinked at him. David was as surprised as he was, but he wasn't going to take anything back.

"You're my brother, and thunder doesn't hurt my brother," David said.

Kurt smiled from behind his teddy bear. There was another flash and he looked around.

"We don't have to go back upstairs," David said.

He picked up another oreo. He considered taking it apart, but decided instead to just eat it whole. He put his arm around Kurt's shoulder. His brother was so small. He'd been as small for as long as David could remember. He wondered if he'd ever get big.

He'd wondered the same thing when his mother had held Kurt the first night he'd seen him. David had been so excited. His mother had told him that he couldn't just order up a brother. Then, soon after, Kurt had appeared. He supposed that his parents had just wanted to surprise him.

Nonetheless, he had a brother now. A small one who had come to him in the middle of a thunderstorm.

"The sofa's comfy," David said, "We can sleep right here."

Kurt's smile widened.

"Glad I came," he said.

David smiled back.

"Don't be scared to," he said.

He grabbed a throw from the other side of the sofa and put it over himself and Kurt. He took the package of oreos away and moved them to the other side of the sofa.

"Go to sleep Kurt," David said, "I won't let anything happen."

* * *

"Moira, you look tired," Charles said, "The bags can wait until later."

Moira nodded and shut the trunk of the car. Together they walked from the garage to the Institute. The ground was wet, and she could only assume that it had been raining when they were gone.

"How are you feeling?" Moira asked.

"Tired, but I think we made some good progress at the convention," he said, "I was pleased to see so many new candidates, and I heard some very constructive arguments."

He smiled.

"It was nice to have you all to myself for a little while too," he said.

She smiled too, but she felt like she was about to keel over.

"It was nice," she said, "But I did miss being home."

"Me too," Charles said.

Moira unlocked the door and walked into the entryway of the Institute. It was six in the morning. She had barely slept on the plane ride back. She didn't think that Charles had slept very well either.

"We've never been gone for this long," she said.

"You called about every five minutes," Charles said.

"If I hadn't called, then you would have," Moira said.

Charles smiled. He reached out and grasped her hand.

"They're fine," he said.

Moira was about to respond when she heard a small shuffling noise from the library. She walked over, keeping slow so Charles could continue to hold her hand, and peered inside.

David and Kurt were on the sofa, snuggled under a throw. Kurt's hand was stuffed into his mouth, a small bead of drool dripping from his lips. She could see Kurt's teddy bear was with him too, and the throw was covered with oreo crumbs. He was resting his head on his brother's shoulder.

She put a hand in front of her mouth, smiling and feeling tears in her eyes.

"You're right Charles," she said, "They were fine."

She stifled her laughter.

"Well, besides the stomachaches they're going to have when they wake up," Moira said.


	2. Chapter 2

September 20, 1977

Kurt laid on his stomach on the floor of his Charles's office, his hands covered in green paint. Charles had arranged a long sheet of thick white paper out onto the floor, surrounded by several newspapers. Moira had helped him set it up before she'd dashed off to her next appointment with the students. There were several students who needed help with their classes. It was always a little difficult at the beginning of the year.

David sat in the other corner of the room, a book in his hands. Years ago Charles had asked Alex to bring a sofa in, which David had quickly made his home. At the moment he was making his way through _The Hobbit. _He was halfway through, and Charles had told him that there were more books in the series. David's eyes had lit up. Charles wondered if they should wait a few years before giving him the rest of them though.

He looked at the clock. Moira would be finishing with her students soon. They had arranged a tag team system which meant that the boys would end up spending more of their days with their parents. It had come about as a result of when Charles was trying to make more room for his family. Once David was out of his classes Moira watched the children while he taught, and he watched them when she had appointments. They usually did paperwork together after the children had been put to bed.

Instead of having Moira and Annie watch David, as it had been a few years ago, he had cut back on his classes so that Annie didn't babysit too much. When she left for a job in Tennessee Ororo had assumed some babysitting duties, as well as Scott, Alex, and Lorna, Still, he wanted to keep their involvement to a minimum. He didn't object to them, but he needed to make time for his sons.

When Kurt came along the plan remained the same, even though Kurt had mewled for Moira when Charles watched him. Charles had managed to deal with it by keeping Kurt in his arms and never letting him go for the entirety of his stay. David would also wriggle his way onto Charles's lap to sit with his new brother. He had never gotten any work done when that had happened, but he hadn't cared.

Now that they were older it had calmed down a bit. David shifted on the sofa. Charles smiled to himself over his paperwork. It seemed like he was always reading. They'd had to try and nip his habit of reading while he walked in the bud early. He reminded Charles of himself at that age. Charles had always preferred to sit somewhere quiet and read when he was younger.

Whenever he was reading or sitting he always seemed so still. Kurt, no matter what he did, was always moving. Even as he painted his tail swished back and forth, his feet tapping on the ground. Charles wondered if it was a nervous condition, but he knew that they had a little time before they would have to look into it.

David was the one who made him nervous though. He seemed inquisitive and was often brusque. There was a temper there, and while it didn't flare up often, when it did it often had bad results. David was constantly trying to see what the X-men were doing, his young mind no doubt recreating their daring adventures.

Charles didn't know what he would do if he found out that David shared his mutation. He could just imagine his son's bluntly inquisitive mind using the minds of others as playgrounds, ignorant of the pain he was causing. If they didn't catch his blossoming telepathy quickly, then it could spell disaster. Charles still wasn't sure how he'd been able to avoid any major incidents as a child.

Kurt was a different matter. He supposed that, given the nature of Kurt's physical mutation, he might take after Azazel, the man they suspected to be his birth father. Charles liked to think that Kurt would teleport. It would be painful, and perhaps too strong a reminder, if he could shape shift.

His second son was always very quiet, even if he did move a lot. He tended to watch David's games with Terry and the others, his eyes wide and excited. He seemed to enjoy messier pursuits though, even though he was quieter than his brother. He seemed a little less social, a little more withdrawn. Unlike David Kurt didn't remind Charles of himself: he reminded him of Raven.

Charles winced slightly at the thought. Even though Kurt had been with them for three years, it was hard not to see his sister in the child, too easy to draw comparisons. Moira had demanded, on more than one occasion, that he forget that Raven was Kurt's mother. He couldn't see him as his nephew if Kurt was to grow up as his son.

Although it hurt, he understood Moira's reluctance to acknowledge Raven as Kurt's birth mother. She had always loved children and when David had been born it had been a miracle. She was a realist though, and she had seen enough children whose parents had to hide them away at the Institute to understand that life wasn't always easy. Even so, there were certain expectations she had for parents.

Raven had left Kurt on the doorstep for them to raise without as much as a word to them. All she'd done was name Kurt and list herself as his mother. She hadn't tried to contact them afterwards to ask how he was doing. It was plain that she had left him in an attempt to forget about him.

He couldn't pretend that didn't hurt. Charles knew that it was selfish to think about how Kurt's abandonment affected him, but still. He still had dear memories of his little sister, and now there was a memory that, try as he might, he couldn't remove the tarnish from. The Brotherhood was, admittedly, no place to raise a child. That hadn't stopped Erik though, for good or ill.

For good or for ill. Charles thought of Lorna, whom was currently on a mission with some of the X-men. It was a minor operation, nothing for him to be too concerned about. Alex was heading up the group, which still remained largely the same, except that Warren had gone off to Harvard for business. They still heard from him on occasion, Ororo especially, and he seemed to be doing well enough.

Lorna had made the team nearly two years ago, and had done well as Polaris since then. She had earned her GED and was currently studying to get her qualifications as a teacher. He had to admire her dedication.

He often wondered if he should bring up Kurt's parentage to her. She'd certainly seemed shocked when she'd seen him the first time. He didn't blame her. It was obvious that Kurt was Raven and Azazel's child. Lorna had, at one point, been close to Azazel. Maybe she would know something about why Raven had just abandoned her son.

The way she had left him was horrible, and there must be an explanation somewhere. Kurt had just been wrapped in a gray blanket and placed on the doorstep. What if no one had been downstairs? What if everyone had been asleep? Raven wouldn't have known if they were awake or not: it was fairly late. Kurt would have been left all night in the chill evening. He was only a few hours old. Would he have even survived to see the sunrise? Charles doubted it.

However, he had decided not to ask her. There was nothing it could do except bring up bad memories for all of them. Lorna hadn't spoken to any member of the Brotherhood since the day she had left. The only contact she had with them now was through her battles.

Charles hadn't even considered raising the subject to Moira. As far as Moira was concerned, Kurt had no mother but her and no father but Charles. To her Raven had forfeited her rights when she left him at their door. She had told him shortly after they had adopted Kurt that prodding and poking the subject would only confuse Kurt. He was only three.

Moira had said that, yes, one day they would tell him that he was adopted and who his biological parents were. She had emphasized that that day was a long way away. Kurt had only just begun to talk and walk, let alone comprehend the idea that Charles and Moira weren't his biological parents. On that count Charles had to agree with her.

Kurt cocked his head at his painting. Then he sat back on his haunches into a crouch. Charles had wondered why he did that. They had long seen that he preferred that strange crouch to sitting. He wondered if it was because of his tail, or something else in his body structure.

David put his book down and walked over to his brother. He looked over at the painting and smiled.

"Awesome Kurt," he said.

Kurt grinned and looked over at Charles.

"Daddy?" he asked.

Charles put down the paperwork he had been looking at and wheeled over. Kurt proudly pointed to the finger painting that he had done, his golden eyes lighting up as Charles looked. He expected to see Kurt's usual mess of colors, decorated with the cast of his own handprints. He seemed entranced by the shape of his own hands.

However, there was something different in this picture. There were still the big, paint blotches that Kurt enjoyed splattering everywhere. Charles often thought that he enjoyed the texture and coolness of the paint against his skin.

This time though Charles could see that he'd mixed the colors together to create different colors. Yet, it wasn't just the mix-ins that happened when children dumped layers of different paint onto paper and splashed around in it. He could see where Kurt had deliberately mixed the colors together.

He knew his son hadn't learned which colors made other colors, with the exception of white and red making pink. Kurt had learned that rather quickly when he'd spilled two jars of paint over one of his paintings. The result had been a giant, thick glop of pink. Charles had still let it dry and tacked it to the fridge. He supposed it was expected of them, as parents, to do so.

Now his son was mixing colors. Charles knew that was important for a three year old. Then again, given all of the paintings he'd done, it made perfect sense that he would start learning that different colors, mixed together, could make other colors. What was impressive was that he'd remembered which ones made which. Or maybe he hadn't. However, from the way the colors went together, Charles supposed that he had.

Kurt looked up shyly. Charles smiled.

"It's very good Kurt," he said.

Kurt giggled. While his son had the quietest cry he had ever heard, he also had the loudest laugh. When Charles had first heard it he wondered if it was laughter or shrieking. It had only been the note of mirth that had tipped the scale in favor of laughter.

David laughed too. Kurt got up and hugged his brother. Charles couldn't help but wince when he saw Kurt's paint drenched hands cover his brother's white shirt. The colors smeared on the fabric. They would have to wash that with extra strength bleach twice to get the paint out.

However, David was still smiling. He was still looking at his brother as though he were amazing, as though he'd done something more impressive than mixing different paint colors together. Charles could see unmistakable pride on David's face.

For whatever reason, David had accepted Kurt unquestionably as his brother. He loved his brother desperately and protectively. Seeing that look on his son's face, taking pride and joy in the accomplishments of his baby brother, was beautiful.

A paint covered shirt was worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

September 20, 1977

"Just hold still. This won't hurt too much-"

"Okay, Jean?" Calvin said, "I've gotten my shoulder dislocated before. I know this is gonna hurt pretty damn bad."

"Don't be a sissy," Clarice said.

He grinned up at her. Lorna vaguely saw Clarice's cheeks flush. It was hard to tell with the pink girl, but she knew that she was always uncertain around her boyfriend. She'd come across Jean and Clarice talking about it once, Clarice's uncertainties about her mutation and appearance making her nervous about Calvin's initial advances.

Jean had tried to reassure that everything would be fine if she accepted. Clarice hadn't said anything, just looked at the crystal that she'd been forming in her hand. Lorna had tentatively knocked on the ajar door. Both girls had looked up and Lorna had told them that the training session was going to start soon. They both nodded and Lorna had hesitated.

"Sometimes taking a chance can be the best thing that's ever happened to you," she'd finally said, "Look at me."

Clarice had blinked at her and turned away. Soon after Clarice had hesitantly accepted Calvin's offer for a date. Lorna had felt happy about that for several reasons. It was her first time trying to help out the younger X-men. She'd felt proud that she had said something right.

She couldn't feel any joy at the moment though. The mission they had been on had taken more out of her than she'd expected, and she felt tired. They had been trying to stop a Brotherhood attack on a small military installation. It had seemed fairly straightforward, and Lorna had felt no compunctions about charging in with the rest of the X-men.

Lorna had just kicked Lance to the other side of the room when she saw Ororo trying to get the security systems back on line. Ororo was so preoccupied that she hadn't seen Angel sucking in a deep breath to breathe fire at her.

The decision had been made in a split second. Lorna had vaulted over a command table and sprinted in front of Angel. She'd had a moment to see Angel's surprised face, and then she punched her in the face. Lorna had heard Angel's nose break, and Angel had been knocked back.

Angel raised her hand to her nose as it dribbled blood. Her eyes were still wide with pain, but there was an element of understanding. For a minute they had just looked at each other. Lorna didn't need telepathy to know what Angel was thinking.

Ororo had gotten the systems back online and they had fled before the authorities came. Lorna sat in her seat in the Blackbird, staring out the window. During the years she had been with the X-men she had fought the Brotherhood on a number of occasions. She had countered attacks that she had taught to the younger members of the Brotherhood and gotten into deadly matches with the older ones. Once she'd even grappled with Janos and thrown him off a landing.

However, she had never come face to face with Angel before. Angel tended to stay out of the more involved missions. Now she had broken the nose of the only member of the Brotherhood who'd understood her decision, the one who'd set her free. It had been either Angel or Ororo, and Lorna didn't regret the decision. She just hated how much it hurt.

She closed her eyes as they landed in the hanger. The landing was a little rough and she closed her eyes. She felt a little nauseous, but she knew it wasn't from the landing. She wished the feeling would go away. She'd never experienced nausea in conjunction with her feelings before, but she supposed that there was a first time for everything.

From behind her she heard a crack.

"Damn!" Calvin shouted.

"Will you stop with the swearing?" Alex asked, "It's just a dislocated arm. Nothing to write home about."

"No, that one was my fault," Jean said.

Lorna sighed and unbuckled her harness.

"It was more his fault," Calvin said, "I think you would've gotten it right if the landing had been a bit smoother."

"Oh ha ha ha," Alex said, shutting down the Blackbird, "Because we all know how good you are on your simulation landings."

Lorna opened her eyes in time for Calvin to grin. He was good-natured, and he seemed to fit in with the team well. He'd qualified just as Warren had left and stood in as his replacement. She knew that Ororo was missing Warren though: he had been her best friend. Lorna still wasn't on very good terms with her, but things had improved when Lorna hadn't immediately backstabbed the X-men after joining them.

He caught her eye and waved cheerfully at her, rolling his injured shoulder. Calvin had done many of his training sessions with her, although hers had been more of a formality. Unlike the rest of the X-men, he had never had any compunctions about her joining the team.

She waved back and caught sight of her glove. There was blood on the back of her glove, smeared across her knuckles. She had only fought one person that had bled that day. Angel. Angel's blood was on the back of her hand.

It wasn't much of it, wasn't as though she had seriously injured her. She took deep breaths, trying to keep it all in. Lorna had fought for a very long time to keep her emotions about her family inside. She'd known that she would have to fight them, and she had managed to do so, to protect her husband, teammates, and cause. Once more, she had no regrets about that.

However, this was the first time she had fought Angel. If she got this bad about fighting Angel, what if she ever came across her father? What if she froze? All the scenarios played out in her head, and Angel's blood was still on her hand. She could almost feel it through her glove, could definitely smell it.

"Lorna?"

Lorna looked over and saw that her husband was looking at her. Concern was written across his face. In fact, most of the X-men were staring at her. She looked around at them, feeling the nausea start to rise up and reach a fever pitch.

She ripped her glove off her hand and threw it to the ground as she hurried out of the Blackbird. The open air felt a little better and she paused by one of the work tables. Lorna put her hands on the table and bowed her head. She breathed in deeply, trying to force the nausea back down.

Lorna felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around and her husband was looking at her, his expression no longer concern. Now it was just distraught.

"Is something wrong?" Alex asked.

She took a deep breath. She wanted to talk to him, wanted to tell him what was wrong. Instead she just felt her stomach continue to roll, pushing her around and making her head ache.

Her stomach began to rumble. She realized what was happening and pushed back Alex. There was a small work sink on the far side of the hanger, and she made it there just in time to throw up in it. Lorna coughed it out, her stomach still feeling like it was pitching back and forth.

Trying to keep herself together she turned on the faucet to rinse out the sink.

"Lorna?" Alex asked.

She turned as he hurried up to her. Lorna saw that the rest of the X-men were standing outside of the Blackbird, staring. Alex took her ungloved hand, holding it tightly. A prickle of uncertainty shot through her and she took another deep breath.

"Lorna?" Alex asked.

Lorna shook her head and shook his hand off.

"Alex, I can't do this right now," she said, "I just really, really need to get out of here."

Still feeling nauseous she left the room, her hands clutching her roiling stomach.

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Charles looked up as his sons finished cleaning up Kurt's paint area since it was almost time for dinner. David already had paint all over his clothes: he didn't see a reason to stop him from getting some more.

"Come in, but watch for the area near the bookcase," he said.

The door opened and Lorna came in. Charles's heart sank. It had been over an hour since Alex had reported in and told him what had happened. He'd hoped that she wouldn't want to talk to him about it and would instead discuss it with Alex.

It wasn't as though he didn't want to talk to her. However, if she felt that she had to talk to him about it, he knew that it was something serious. Otherwise she would have instead discussed it with Alex. They had a strong marriage, one forged through more adversity and heartbreak than anyone should have to go through.

She had changed out of her uniform, which he supposed meant that she had been up and about. Alex said that she had locked herself in their room for a while afterwards, and he had decided to give her her space. If she changed out of the uniform he supposed that she had gone for a walk on the grounds or something.

Lorna grinned at David and Kurt. They waved paint splattered hands at her.

"Hi Aunt Lorna," David said.

Kurt grabbed his finger painting and held it up.

"Wook," he said.

"Wow Kurt, you're getting better," Lorna said.

She folded her arms in front of her and tilted her head towards Charles.

"Kurt really does like his paintings, doesn't he?" Lorna asked.

"I can't get him away from them," Charles said.

She smiled and looked over at David.

"Were you helping your brother out?" she asked.

David shook his head.

"Naw, Kurt just likes gettin' me messy," he said.

"Do nawt," Kurt said.

"Do too," David said.

"Boys," Charles laughed, "Just finish up, okay?"

They nodded and David folded up the newspaper. Charles looked back at Lorna, who had taken a seat in front of his desk. She rubbed her arm.

"I was hoping I could speak to you, in uh, private," she said.

Charles sighed. He'd really hoped that it wouldn't come to that. Still, it was best to discuss things, and it probably wasn't a conversation that David and Kurt should be listening too.

"David, Kurt," he said, "Could you wait out in the hall for a moment?"

David looked at the newspapers.

"Don't we hafta finish pickin' up?" he asked.

"You can finish that up later," Charles said, "Just wait out in the hall. Don't go anywhere, alright?"

"Okay Dad," David said.

He grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him out towards the door. He paused for a minute at the door, boosting himself onto his toes to manage the doorknob. With a little push he managed to open the door and take his brother into the hallway. Kurt waved once before David closed the door behind them.

"They're very exuberant," Charles said.

Trying to look as open as possible Charles folded his hands on his desk.

"Now, what did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Lorna closed her eyes.

"I know you heard about what happened earlier," she said.

"I did, yes," Charles said, "Alex told me. He's worried."

"I know," Lorna said, "I just...I couldn't talk to him right then."

"I understand," Charles said, "It's been very difficult for you, these past few years."

Lorna opened her eyes.

"I want you to know that we're all here for you whenever you need us," he said, "Your position is...different from the others. We understand that. We always have."

"Different for a couple of reasons," Lorna said.

She ran a hand through her hair.

"Charles...I have an unusual request," she said, "You're the head of the X-men, so I figured that I should talk to you about it."

He paused.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Lorna swallowed and locked her eyes with his.

"I would like to be taken off the team," she said.


	4. Chapter 4

September 20, 1977

The day had not gone well. Alex could feel a headache coming on, could feel his own nerves sparking. Lorna's eyes had been panicked when she'd left the hanger, and Alex didn't like what that could mean.

He didn't like that she wouldn't talk to him about it either. He'd always prided himself on being there when she needed him. Now though, just like the time she had told him to go away when she'd still been making her decision, he felt lost.

Their marriage had no secrets. She'd told him everything from her nightmares on her first few nights to her fears about acceptance in her new world. He'd made sure that he never left out any of his worries, any of his doubts about the team or even about his own future. There was no reason to hold anything back anymore.

Alex sat on a stool the kitchen with a soda, his arms resting on the counter. He'd lobbied hard to get Charles to allow some beer in the house, maybe in a special locked cupboard, but he'd forbidden it. They had too many students with abilities that would blow through any lock. Although Alex had understood, he hadn't necessarily been happy about it. He could have used a beer right then.

He turned the bottle over in his hands, feeling decidedly helpless. He hated that feeling more than anything. He was tempted to go down to the Danger Room and blow some stuff up, but Scott was leading a training session at the moment. His attempts to give his brother some more control on the team had been fairly successful, but at the moment Alex could only sigh.

The door opened. He looked hopefully, Lorna would have to get something to eat sometime, but it wasn't her. David and Kurt walked in instead. He saw a smear of paint on Kurt's chin and David's shirt was covered with drying paint. Despite himself he raised his eyebrows.

"What have you two been up to?" he asked.

"Bainting!" Kurt said.

"He's gettin' good," David said.

Alex shrugged.

"So, why are you in the kitchen?" he asked.

"We're not staying," David said, "We're goin' to dinner. Dad said we could leave the hallway."

Alex blinked. He looked at his watch and swore in his head. It was much later than he'd thought, and he still hadn't seen Lorna. Perhaps it was time to go up to their room, but he didn't want to force his way in. It couldn't be that serious.

"Uncle Alex?" David asked.

"Yeah?" Alex asked.

David drew himself up, rocking back and forth on his feet. Alex took a swig of his soda.

"Next time the X-men go out," he said, "Can I go too?"

Alex nearly choked on his soda. He sputtered for a minute before swallowing.

"What?" he asked.

David didn't look away, nor did he look surprised at Alex's reaction. His eyes were a mirror of his father's, and sometimes it was creepy to have a child look at him with those eyes.

"Just figured you'd be needing people," he said.

"Ohh! Me too! Me too!" Kurt said.

David laughed.

"You don't even know what we're talking about," he said.

"Do too!" Kurt said.

"Do not," David said.

"Do too!"

"Whoa, wait a minute," Alex said.

Both boys turned to Alex. He could feel his headache pounding away.

"Let's get one thing straight," he said, "Both of you are way, way too young. David, you've got at least eight years before I'd consider it. Kurt, you've got twelve."

"'til what?" Kurt asked.

"Told you you didn't know," David said.

"Not to mention," Alex said, hoping to cut off any more argument, "You'd have to talk to your parents before you talk to me. Get both of those things in line, and then I'll think about it. But like I said, you've got a couple years of waiting to do."

David shrugged.

"Just curious," he said.

He looked at the other end of the room.

"Probably dinner time," he said, "Com'n Kurt."

Kurt nodded and walked to the other side of the room. His brother walked after him. Alex rubbed his temples for a minute, going over what had to be the strangest conversation that he'd had with Charles's children. It was definitely one he hadn't been expecting for a few years.

He sat up straighter.

"Hey, David?" he asked.

David paused by the door.

"Why did you think we'd need people?" he asked.

David shrugged again.

"'cause Aunt Lorna's quittin' an' all," he said.

Alex felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"Where...where did you hear that?" he asked.

"She was talkin' to my dad," David said, "Said she was quittin.'"

"Oh, right," Alex said.

David nodded before pushing the door open. Kurt followed his brother closely out. Alex stared at the door as it swung behind them. Neither of them had any idea just what it was that they had told him.

He set his soda down and pushed away from the counter, his mind buzzing. Alex pushed open the opposite door of the kitchen and headed up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He could hear his heart pounding in time with his footsteps.

Panting he reached the room that he shared with Lorna. He knocked on the door.

"Lorna?" he asked.

There was a pause on the other side of the door.

"Alex?"

"Lorna, could you please open the door?" she asked.

There was another pause.

"Alex, are you okay?" Lorna asked, "You sound kind of breathless."

He felt his temper rise and begin to burn in his throat. Part of him didn't even want to ask for her to open the door. He just wanted to break it down. Alex took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he did just that.

"Lorna, I need to talk to you," he said, "Could you please, please just open the door."

For a moment he didn't hear anything. Then he heard the door click. Lorna opened it, looking shocked. He moved his foot into the door, just to make sure. When she didn't shut it immediately he slipped in.

"Alex, you look like hell," Lorna said.

Her voice was so clam and collected that he felt floored. Alex walked over to the window in their room that overlooked the green. He'd lived with his wife for two years in that room. He loved her, had thought that their marriage was perfect.

Now he felt that lost feeling pulling him down again.

"Why are you leaving the X-men?" he asked.

He didn't look behind him. Alex wasn't ready to. He didn't know if he would ever be ready to.

"Who told you that?" Lorna asked.

"David," Alex said, "He said you were talking to Charles about it."

It felt foolish to say it, but he wasn't going to lie.

"So now he eavesdrops," Lorna said.

Alex waited. When she didn't say anything he sighed.

"Lorna, can you at least tell me why?" he said.

"I just...I was going to tell you," Lorna said, "Just not this second."

She sounded uncertain. Alex clenched his fingers into the window sill and looked over the green. After a moment he turned around. Lorna was standing behind him, looking awkward. Words stuck in his throat as he looked at her.

In the past he had never thought that they would be able to be together. He had spent an agonizing few months teaching himself to repress his feelings for both his sake as well as the sake of his team. Alex had always liked to think of himself as being in control, as knowing what he wanted and how to get it. With Lorna he'd had no idea what to do.

Then, despite everything, she had left her world and entered his. Alex didn't flatter himself: he knew she hadn't left her family because she was desperately in love with him like the heroine of some novel. She had left because of her convictions, and that just made him love her even more. Lorna was willing to fight for what she believed in, to sacrifice everything because of it.

She had loved him too, but that had been unrelated. Nonetheless, he had treasured it, treasured an unlikely love that had worked out. The past two years had started out rough, but he'd thought that they had gotten through the worst of it. He had memories of her laughing and enjoying her life, a life that he had helped build, that he was a part of.

Logically he knew that just because she was leaving the X-men didn't mean she was leaving the Institute. Not all of the students there were members of the X-men after all. Most of them didn't even know about the X-men. Besides, she would have discussed something like that with him. He was sure of it.

However, deep down Lorna was a fighter. She had been trained to be that way since she was eleven years old. If she believed in something, then, one way or another, she was going to fight for it. It was just the way that she was. It would take something very, very strong to pull her away from that fight.

If she wasn't fighting for their cause, then she didn't believe in it. Either that or her love of her family had overcome her beliefs. He wasn't sure he believed that though. She had stayed strong after her father had disowned her after all.

If she was leaving the X-men, then he knew that meant she was pulling away. The thought of losing her seemed too much. He wanted to get angry, to tell her to stay with them, to demand it, but he knew he didn't have the right. No one did.

It just hurt him to be so helpless. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Lorna," he said, "If you want to leave, I won't stop you. I know that it's been really difficult for you these past few years. If you've reached your breaking point, then I understand. You've done more than most people in your circumstances could or would have. I just..."

He let out the breath he'd been holding.

"I guess I'm just being selfish," he said, "And, after everything-"

"Alex, shut up right now."

He opened his eyes. Lorna stood in front of him, shaking her head. She put her hands on either side of his face.

"This is why I wanted to tell you," she said, "I thought you might get the wrong impression, and it appears you did, which is why I'm going to have to have a little chat with Charles about David listening in on conversations."

She shook her head again.

"Alex, what happened with Angel today hurt like hell," she said, "I'm not going to lie about that. And it was shocking that I had to break the nose of the woman who taught me how to play patty-cake."

Lorna sighed deeply.

"But...well...the truth of the matter is I knew that kind of thing was coming the moment I chose the X-men over the Brotherhood," she said, "I'm not leaving, and don't play the self-sacrificing husband for me. I don't need that, and you don't need to force yourself to play that role."

He felt some of the tension disappear. Alex swallowed and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her hands slid from his cheeks and rested on his shoulders.

"Sorry for jumping to conclusions," he muttered.

"No, I get it," Lorna said, "It's what happens when people hear the first part of something and not the second."

Alex frowned.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Alex, I'm not leaving the team forever," Lorna said, "Just for a little while."

"I really don't understand," Alex said.

"I can't be on the team for a little bit," Lorna said, "It's dangerous."

"When has that ever stopped you?" he asked.

She laughed.

"Never, but I had my suspicions after what happened in the hanger, so I went out and made a few purchases," she said, "And it turns out-"

Lorna grinned and pulled him closer.

"I'm pregnant," she said.

Alex stared at her. She shrugged.

"Being an X-man right now might not be good for the baby," she said.

Lorna smiled. Wordlessly Alex moved his hands to the side of her face.

"You just keep giving to me, don't you?" he said.

"I think this baby is for both of us," Lorna laughed.

Alex laughed too, even as he felt the tears in his eyes.

"I love you so much," he said.

"I love you too," Lorna said.

He pulled her face closer and kissed her, his eyes closing. He was going to be a father.


	5. Chapter 5

December 25, 1977

"Wake up."

David rolled over and buried his head beneath his pillow. It was too early to get up, and he didn't understand why he had to. He didn't even know why someone wanted him to wake up. He was too tired to ask though.

"Don't be so lazy."

He buried his head deeper beneath the pillow.

"Idiot. Wake up!"

Hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up, shaking him slightly. He opened his eyes and glared at Terry, who stood at his bedside with an annoyed expression.

"Go away," he said.

"No," Terry said, "You have to get up so you can help me get Kurt up. He's a much heavier sleeper than you. Then we have to go downstairs."

He made a face. Terry, being four years older, could be impossibly bossy at times. If he concentrated he could vaguely remember her being quiet a few years ago. He wished she would be quiet again.

"Why?" David asked.

She hit his arm. David winced and drew back.

"Don't you remember? It's Christmas!" she said.

His eyes widened and he scrambled out of bed. Terry laughed.

"That got you up," she said.

"Shut up," David said.

He picked up his bathrobe from where he'd dropped it on the floor the previous night. David threw it over his shoulders and ran out the door to his brother's room a little down the hall. He opened the door and saw Kurt had thrown his blanket over his head. His tail peeped beneath the covers, swishing gently back and forth.

David ran up and yanked the blanket off. He shook his brother a few times, but Kurt didn't wake up. Feeling exasperated he yanked his tail. Kurt sat up, his golden eyes wide and searching.

"It's Christmas," David said.

Kurt grinned. He clambered over the rails on his bed and jumped onto the floor. He paused for a minute before reaching back towards his bed. Kurt stood on his tip-toes but he was still floundering. David saw what he was reaching for and grabbed Kurt's teddy bear. He passed it to Kurt and the two of them went into the hallway.

Terry was waiting there, her arms folded and her foot tapping the floor.

"Glad you could come," she said.

"Shut up," David said again.

Terry rolled her eyes and hurried down the hall. They stopped when they reached the staircase. It was still dark out, so it was a little difficult to see. Or at least it was for Terry and David. David had always envied his brother's ability to see in the dark. He could just make out the slight glow in Kurt's eyes. Besides the glow it was almost impossible to see him.

Together they crept down the stairs. The light switch was at the bottom of the stairs, and it seemed impossibly far away. David was certainly worried about tripping in the dark. They could have turned on the light switch in the hallway, but that would have woken up the adults. All of the students had gone home for winter break, except Clarice, Calvin, Scott, and Ororo, so besides them it only would have been their parents. Yet, somehow it was more fun to go down and investigate their presents first without parental observation.

Terry turned the light on when they reached the bottom of the stairs. She put her finger to her lips and they continued. Together they journeyed into the living room where the Christmas tree had been set up. They stopped in the doorway, their eyes devouring the scene.

Presents in brightly colored wrapping paper were stacked around the tree. Ribbons bedecked a few and a couple of parcels had been tucked into the tree. The stockings they'd hung by the chimney had been filled to the point of bursting, a few toys and treats peeking tantalizingly out.

"Wook," Kurt said, pointing.

David followed the direction of his brother's finger. His eyes widened.

"Terry," he said, "He did it again."

Terry glanced over at the coffee table and smiled. The milk and cookies that they had left out for Santa had been messily devoured. David wondered just how hungry Santa got when he was delivering gifts. It was the only reason David could think of that he would be so messy.

"Looks like he gave the carrot to his reindeer," Terry said.

"Maybe we should have left more carrots," David said.

"Nah, I think it's fine," she said.

She walked over to the tree and flopped down.

"Come on," she said, "Don't you want to guess what you got?"

David hurried up. Kurt sat next to him, his hands wrapped around his teddy bear. His tail thumped the ground once or twice. Terry grinned as she dove into the stack of presents, rummaging until she found a package wrapped in silver paper.

"This one is for you Kurt," she said.

Kurt let go of his teddy bear and reached for the package. David passed it over to Kurt and he turned it over in his hands. It was in a box, so David didn't think that he would figure out what it was. Kurt never really figured out what it was. He had the feeling that his brother liked to be surprised.

"Got one for you David," Terry said.

She passed him a golden package.

"Who's it from?" David asked.

"Your parents," she said.

The box was long. It rattled when he shook it and David frowned. Next to him Terry pulled out a blue, soft package. She rolled her eyes.

"It's soft, and it's from my dad. So, clothes," she said.

David reached out and felt her gift. He nodded.

"Yeah," he said.

"Cwothes!" Kurt said, holding up his package.

David heard the different parts in the package crash up against the side of the box.

"I don't think so Kurt," David said.

Kurt continued smiling, holding the package close to him.

"What about you?" Terry asked.

David frowned and looked at his gift.

"Well, it's heavy and it rattles," he said, "And it's from my parents. So...it's either a puzzle or a toy with lots of little bits. I think it's a puzzle. They wouldn't give me a toy with lots of little bits."

"Why do you say that?" Terry said.

"Because Kurt would eat them," David said.

He grinned.

"Right Kurt?" he asked.

"Wight! Yummy!" Kurt said.

"That's a very bad habit to encourage you know."

David looked around. His mother was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. Her bathrobe and slippers were on, and she held a cup of coffee in one of her hands. David could see his father roll up behind her, followed closely by Terry's father.

"I can't stop him," David said.

"I suppose that's our job," his father said, "You all got up early this year."

"Terry's pretty on the ball," Terry's father said.

She grinned and looked up shyly. Her father walked up and sat down behind her.

"I think we can let them open one right now, right?" he said, "Charles, Moira?"

David looked hopefully at his parents. His mother smiled and sat down on the couch, his father pushing his wheelchair next to her.

"I suppose we can," his father said.

David grinned, feeling giddy. He tore the paper off the package and looked inside. His grin widened as he held up the box for everyone to see.

"Puzzle," he proclaimed, "I told you all."

"Okay, okay, you win," Terry said.

She tore the wrapping paper off her own present. Her eyes widened as she unfolded a dress made of soft, shiny fabric. There was a lace collar with soft ribbon roses. She smiled and clutched the dress to her chest.

"Clothes," she said, "I was right too."

Terry turned to her father.

"I love it," she said.

Her father grinned back at her, his expression soft.

"My turn!" Kurt said.

To David's surprise he bit the package, tearing off the paper with his teeth.

"Kurt!" his mother said.

Kurt looked up, a bit of wrapping paper in his mouth.

"Mawma?" he asked.

His mother sighed.

"You might want to try using your hands Kurt," she said.

Kurt nodded, spitting the piece of wrapping paper out of his mouth. He ripped off the last of the paper with his hands and opened a box. Inside was a small set of paints and brushes. David craned his neck to get a better look. He saw that the paintbrushes were thick and angled slightly. He supposed that they had been made specially for Kurt, for the thick fingers that Kurt possessed.

Kurt giggled and picked up the different brushes.

"Wove it!" he said, "Wots and wots!"

He turned to David.

"I was wight too!" he said.

David shook his head.

"Whatever you say," he said.

* * *

"Hey Scott, could you put out the plates?" Alex asked.

Scott nodded and grabbed a stack of china plates. He could see Clarice and Calvin setting out the silverware. Calvin paused before kissing Clarice quickly on the cheek. She swatted him on the shoulder and he grinned before hurrying to the other side of the table.

Alex shook his head, chuckling to himself. Clarice had always been so quiet, and it was good to see that she had turned up her volume a little. He was a little worried about whether or not her relationship with Calvin would survive though: she was studying accounting and he was working towards becoming a counselor. Alex knew it wasn't really in his job description to intrude, but he knew that it could become a potential situation. Beyond that he just worried about them.

However, it was something that could be left alone for the time being. He looked over at Lorna, who watched the oven with a critical eye. After his first Thanksgiving at the Institute he had been banned from ever touching the stove ever again. It had been a long time ago, but he supposed that it was fair.

He watched Lorna turn down the flame on one of the saucepans. She had to move a little differently now: her stomach had swollen slightly as her pregnancy had progressed. She still moved with the same grace that he had become familiar with over the years though, a strange self-assuredness that he'd never seen anyone possess before her.

She stepped away from the stove and stood still, watching. Alex walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach, feeling where their child grew. She smiled and placed her hands over his.

"I'm not even five months along," she said.

"I know," Alex said.

He rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I've been counting," he said.

He kissed her neck.

"We're halfway through," he said.

"The second half is the best," Lorna said.

Alex grinned.

"He's not giving you too much trouble, is he?" he asked.

The sonogram they'd had told them that their child was a boy. It had floored him to know that. He was still having a little trouble comprehending that the boy who had been on the fast track to prison fourteen years ago was going to be a father. He would have been happy no matter what gender the child was, but to know it was a son only made it more real.

He'd come out of the medical appointment and seen the knowing look on Sean's face, heard the knowledgeable tone when he talked to Hank over the phone. Both of his friends had come into fatherhood: they knew what it was like. He'd talked about it a little to both of them, although not face to face with Hank. He missed the days when everyone had been able to come back to the Institute for holidays, but he understood Hank had a family and a political career now. Things would be different.

One difference included his wife and approaching child though, so he couldn't say that he wanted things exactly how they'd been.

"Not too much," she said.

Lorna laughed.

"Well, not too much for a Summers anyway," she said.

"Are you saying we're trouble?" Alex asked.

"You are trouble," Lorna said.

She leaned back and Alex kissed her on the side of her head again.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, "You've already given me a beautiful gift."

He ran his hand over her stomach again. From the dining room he heard a crash. Alex let go of Lorna and hurried inside. Scott was standing off to the side, rubbing his temples. Clarice and Calvin were staring from the other end of the table.

David was standing off to the side, broken pieces of china surrounding him. He looked sheepishly up at Alex and Lorna. Across the table Kurt laughed and clapped his hands.

Alex turned to Lorna.

"Can't wait 'til we have one of our own," he said.

* * *

_**A/N: **Here's a special shout-out to Erica Dawn, who wanted to see Kurt and David as brothers for Christmas. This time it's for real. _


	6. Chapter 6

April 12, 1978

Alex sat next to Lorna, looking in wonder at the tiny child in her arms. She looked exhausted, her green hair plastered to her forehead and her breath still sounding a little harsh. Her eyes were proud and triumphant though, like she looked when she overcame an enemy or triumphed in a simulation.

This was something even more special than anything as mundane as a mission though. Alex reached out gently and touched his son's hand. His son yawned and Alex looked up at Lorna.

"He's tired," he said.

"It's been a long day for him," Lorna said.

He laughed.

"And you?" he asked, "I'd say it's been a long day for you too."

She tilted her head back. Her labor had lasted almost all day. Alex had been frantic trying to get her to the hospital, unable to understand how she could remain so calm throughout it all.

"I've had more difficult training sessions," she said.

Despite her words Alex knew that the last several hours had been grueling for her. He had been with her through the entire ordeal. Few of the doctors had fought his right to be there. It seemed strange that he would have an almost uncontested front seat to his son's birth when Charles had had to fight to be by Moira's side. Alex had seen the burning in his eyes, known how close he had come to using his mutation when David was born.

Hank had had to argue as well, but because of his medical background and a more understanding hospital system he was let in too. Alex was glad that the doctors had only argued halfheartedly. He probably wouldn't have had Charles's restraint and would've just punched someone out.

He leaned over and kissed Lorna on the forehead before he gently stroked his son's cheek. It all still seemed far too good to be true. Sean, Hank, and Charles had warned him about the feeling. He supposed that, from Lorna's expression, she'd also had a few conversations with Carly and Moira.

Alex thought of his friends in the hall. Even Hank and his family had managed to come down. He gripped Lorna's hand.

"Are you ready to have visitors?" he asked.

She paused for a minute, the smile slipping slightly. Lorna quickly recovered, but Alex furrowed his brow.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No," Lorna said.

"Lorna," Alex said, resting his hand on top of hers, "You know that you don't have to lie to me."

Lorna bit her lip. She looked down at the boy in her arms and shifted him. He pushed at his face with his tiny hands.

"It's just...he's not going to know his grandfather," she said, "And I know, I know why that has to be, but I can't even tell him about our son."

Alex's heart fell. He knew he couldn't give her what she wanted. There wasn't any real way to contact Magneto. Even if they did, would he even listen long enough to hear the news about his grandson? If he did, would he care? Alex wasn't sure.

He didn't even know if he wanted to let him know about their son. Alex certainly knew that he didn't want him anywhere near their child. Magneto had already caused enough damage to his family.

"You know...you know how things are," Alex said, "And Lorna, you know how I feel about your father."

"I know," Lorna said.

She sounded resigned, but there was an edge to her tone.

"But this is his grandchild no matter how he feels," she said.

Alex gritted his teeth and tried to swallow his own feelings. She was right, as usual.

"You can't think that he would try to hurt him Alex," she said.

He hesitated. Alex knew that she wanted him to agree, but he couldn't. He sighed.

"Lorna, you said that about yourself," Alex said.

"And he never did hurt me," Lorna said.

"Not physically," Alex said.

He shook his head.

"Lorna, I'm not worried that he'll harm you so much. You can take care of yourself, I know that," he said, "But I am worried that he'll try to take you away again."

Lorna blinked and Alex took a deep breath.

"You, and now him," Alex said, "And I'm not losing my family."

His wife paused and she pulled their son closer. Alex looked down. He damned Magneto for the millionth time for the hurt he saw in Lorna's eyes.

"Alex."

He looked up and saw that his wife looked at him with determination.

"I've forgiven him for what he's done," Lorna said, "But I won't forget. And I won't let anything happen to our son. But...Alex, he needs to know."

Alex smiled, trying to push away his own feelings. Lorna was the one who was hurting after all. He couldn't help but admire her strength. It was what had made him love her. Despite his own misgivings, he knew that she wasn't going to put their son in danger.

"If I see him," Alex said, "and I can, then I'll tell him."

Lorna released a slow breath.

"Thank you Alex," she said.

He looked down from her face to their son.

"No," he said, "Thank you. For everything."

She smiled at him and he leaned in and kissed her. He could taste sweat on her lips as well as her own unique flavor, one that he knew like the back of his hand. Alex pulled away and grinned at her. Together they looked at the child in her arms.

"Are you ready for visitors?" he asked.

Lorna nodded. Alex got up and walked to the door to the hospital room. He opened it and saw everyone waiting in the hall. They were all there. Scott had his eyes glued on the door, so he was the first one to notice when Alex came out. Charles and Moira had David and Kurt. Kurt had fallen asleep in his mother's arms and David leaned on her shoulder.

Carly was also rocking her sleeping daughter, Sharon's thick mane of white hair down to her hips. Hank had one of his arms around Carly's shoulders, his wife's eyes drooping. Sean sat next to her, talking to Terry.

They all looked up when he walked into the room. He beamed and nodded, gesturing to the room. They got up, smiling and congratulating him. Sharon and Kurt remained asleep, but David yawned and got up. He walked in blearily after his mother.

Alex walked next to Lorna and proudly put his arm around her shoulder. Scott moved to the front, gazing in awe at his nephew.

"Everyone," Alex said, "I'd like to present Maximilian Bryan Summers."

"Maximilian?" Charles asked.

"Lorna's idea," Alex laughed, "We're going to call him Max for right now though."

Everyone moved forward, except David, who stayed where he was. He had a puzzled expression on his face. Moira shifted Kurt and put a hand on David's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

David looked up at her, blinking.

"It's a boy?" he asked.

"Yes honey," Moira said.

Alex could have sworn that David looked at his brother before turning to look at Max again.

"Okay," he said.

* * *

David could feel the confusion pressing in on him. It was a boy. Lorna's child was a boy. He'd been confused during Lorna's pregnancy. She was putting on a lot of weight, and X-men couldn't be fat, even if they were taking a break. He'd understood when his mother had explained that Lorna looked that way because she was carrying a child. That had seemed confusing to him too, but he figured he'd know more about it when he got older.

It was confusing for another reason too. He remembered very clearly when Kurt had come. He'd walked in on his parents with his brother. His mother had looked fine, her hair brushed, tired from the day but not exhausted.

Once he'd gotten over the excitement of having a brother, and he'd gotten a little older, he'd thought a bit about that night. Something hadn't sat right and David had struggled to understand why that was. He didn't know too much about babies, so why would he think something was unusual?

So he began to compare it to when Sharon had been born. It had been a fussy occasion, and Carly had looked like Lorna looked when she was getting ready for a child. Her stomach had gotten really big and Hank had fussed over her. He'd gone to a hospital with his parents, and they'd had to wait in the hall for a really long time. After that they had gone in and Carly had been covered with sweat and looked exhausted.

Nothing about that sounded anything like the night that he he'd met Kurt. David hadn't been able to figure it out, and he wasn't going to ask anyone in case he sounded stupid. It must be pretty obvious if they hadn't told him why things were different.

So he came up with his own answers. Hank was a doctor. At least, he had been a doctor. David wasn't too sure he was still a doctor since he saw him on TV sometimes. Still, he was probably still kind of a doctor. David had figured that the baby had arrived when Hank was working on something there. David wasn't allowed to go into Hank's lab when he was younger, so they probably weren't allowed to go in for the same reason.

Besides, that child had been a girl. It was probably different when children were girls. Terry was always really loud, so maybe Carly looked that way because she'd gotten a headache from Sharon being loud. Sharon must have been really loud, and they probably would have heard that if they were in the hallway, but it was as good an explanation as any. David had considered the question solved and put it behind him.

Max was different. He had become unsure when they had driven to the hospital, but he told himself that the baby would be a girl. It would make sense that way. Max was a boy though. David knew that Alex wasn't a doctor. So why were they in a hospital? Why did Lorna look like she'd just finished a Danger Room session? David could only feel confused at what was happening, at what he didn't know.

While everyone looked at Max, David looked at Kurt. He was still sleeping soundly, his head tucked into his mother's neck. David turned from him to Sharon, who was doing much the same thing. He glanced at Max before returning his gaze to Kurt.

Why had Kurt's birth been so different from Max and Sharon's? David wasn't sure where his thoughts were taking him, and he wasn't sure why they made him so uneasy. Surely nothing was wrong, surely there was just something that he was missing.

He suddenly got the idea that no, there was nothing he was missing. Kurt's birth had been different because his birth hadn't happened in the same way. Sharon and Max's births were the same, so that must mean that they were the right way things happened. Why had Kurt's been wrong though?

David wanted to leave the room, but there was no way to get out. He didn't like his thoughts and he wished that they would stop. David wanted to tug on his mother's pant leg, get his father's attention to make it go away, but he felt frozen to the spot.

Max and Sharon had come from their mothers, and they had come from hospitals. Kurt hadn't come from a hospital. David got the uneasy feeling that meant that he hadn't come from their mother either. If that was true, then where had he come from?


	7. Chapter 7

April 22, 1978

"Whatcha doin'?"

Kurt looked up, his eyes wide.

"Dumb question," David said, "You're painting."

Kurt nodded. He had gotten his paints out, even though he wasn't supposed to be doing it on the carpet. David understood though: it was more comfortable that way. Still, Kurt wasn't being very careful. He hadn't even put newspapers down. David knew that he would probably get into trouble for that if anyone found out about it.

They weren't going to find out about it from him though. David stood looking at the picture Kurt was painting. He was using his brushes, but the colors were no less swirled than they had been in the past. David sat down next to him.

"It's nice," he said.

Kurt dropped his paintbrush into a cup of water. The colors of the paint had dyed it a murky brown. He'd certainly used a lot of different colors.

"Tanks," Kurt said.

"I mean it," David said.

Looking sheepish Kurt nodded and began to suck his fingers. David couldn't help but think about when he'd seen Kurt in his mother's arms when Max had been born. David didn't want to think about it. He already knew the answer that his thoughts were taking him to. It was a pointless answer, and he didn't like it.

His brother continued to quietly suck his fingers. David cocked his head.

"Are you done now?" he asked.

"Yes," Kurt said.

"Do you want to read a book?" he asked.

Kurt nodded and got up. As he did so he knocked over the glass of water. David watched, in slow motion, as the brown liquid splattered over the cream carpet. In seconds it took on the dirty brown color, making it look filthy. Kurt put his hands in front of his mouth.

David watched as Kurt started to cry, his quiet sobs wracking his body. David scooched over and put his arms around him.

"Hey," he said, "Don't be a baby: stop crying."

Kurt sniffled.

"Don't worry," David said, "It's going to be alright."

"How?" Kurt said.

David let go of his brother and ran to the kitchen. He came back with paper towels and started blotting the carpet. There must have been more water in the cup than he'd thought, because he began running through paper towels quickly. He was glad that he'd brought a lot of them.

"We'll get it as good as new," he said.

Kurt grabbed a paper towel. Together they continued blotting the carpet, but David could see that not all of the color was coming out. From the look in his eyes Kurt could see that as well. David watched, feeling frustrated, as Kurt began to cry again.

"I'm gonna be in twouble," he said.

"No you're not," David said.

"I yam," Kurt said.

"No, you're not," David said.

He looked around him for inspiration. A throw rug was in front of the door. It was thick and a dark color, and it was perfect. David ran up and pulled it away from the doorstep. He threw it over the brown stain.

"See?" David said, "No stain!"

Kurt looked from the rug to David, and then back to the rug. His eyes seemed to get wider. Without another word he tackled David, his arms around his waist. David fell to the floor. For a moment he just stared at the ceiling. Then he hugged him back.

"Tanks! Tanks!" Kurt said.

"No problem," David said, "And don't tackle me again."

Kurt let go and sat back on his haunches. David looked around him.

"Still," he said, "We can't let anyone know we were here around now. We've got to clean up and stay out of sight for a while."

He stood up, punching the air with his fist.

"To the hideout!" he said.

David looked down.

"Well, after we clean up," he said.

Kurt giggled and, together, they cleaned up his painting supplies. Then, as quietly as they could, they snuck down to the hanger. There was an alcove there that David figured had once been a supply shelf. Now it was covered by a dark sheet and it looked like it was part of the wall.

David had discovered it a few weeks ago and had immediately claimed it for his own. Kurt was the only other one allowed in there. He'd moved a few pillows and sheets in there to make it more comfortable. The sheet could make it musty if he stayed in there too long, but he figured they wouldn't need to hide there for more than half an hour.

He clambered in, feeling clumsy. It felt like, as he got older, his limbs got fatter and more unwieldy. The opposite seemed to be happening to Kurt. He seemed to be getting more agile. He still didn't have complete control over his tail though, so he figured that his brother wasn't perfect.

It made him feel better.

"I know it's dark in here," David said, "But I can't have a light."

"I can see," Kurt said,

"I know," David said, "I'm just saying."

The hanger rattled. He knew that meant that the X-men were coming back. They were the only ones who used the hanger. Kurt's eyes widened and David put his finger to his lips. David moved towards the sheet. He had to make sure that they didn't find them.

He peeked out from behind the sheet. The Blackbird landed and he saw the side door open. The X-men walked out, a few of them looking a little battered. David wasn't too worried: he'd seen them like that before. Most of them left, but he saw Scott and Jean linger for a moment. Jean hesitated, but Scott murmured something and she left.

Once she was gone Scott stayed in the hanger. David watched as Scott patiently stood alone in the hanger, looking at the Blackbird. Alex came out after a little bit, rubbing his forehead. Scott started to open his mouth, but Alex shook his head.

Alex pulled up a chair and sat down in it. Scott stood awkwardly next to him. David continued to stare, even though he already knew that they weren't going to come to his hiding place. He knew it was nosy, but he couldn't help but watch.

"Scott, please, just don't say anything," Alex said.

"I haven't said anything," he said.

"No, but you're thinking it."

Scott rolled his eyes.

"Is thinking a crime now?" he asked.

"Just stop."

Scott crossed his arms.

"You want me to leave then?" he said.

Alex shook his head again.

"No, not for another few moments," he said, "I'm sorry for snapping at you but...it's just..."

Alex rubbed his temples.

"Why did I think it wouldn't be bad news?" he said, "It's always bad news, always, always bad news."

Alex leaned back further.

"It comes with the territory I guess," he said.

He got to his feet. David could see that he felt tired.

"I don't regret anything," Alex said, "Not a damn thing, understand?"

"I know you don't," Scott said, "You're always so certain. I envy that about you, your certainty."

David widened his eyes. Kurt crawled next to him and peered out as well. He didn't stop him.

"It's not as easy as it looks," Alex said.

"I didn't think it was," Scott said, "I just know that you have it."

Alex grinned and patted his brother on the shoulder.

"You're a good kid Scott," he said.

"Learned from the best," Scott said.

The two of them walked out of the room. David let the sheet drop. Kurt's eyes glowed for a minute, catching the light.

"What was dat?" Kurt asked.

David paused for a minute.

"I don't think it was our business," he said, "It's grown-up stuff."

He shook his head.

"Definitely not for us," he said.

* * *

"Oh come on," Lorna laughed, "You need to calm down Max."

Her son wiggled his hands, his green eyes blinking and rolling back and forth. His face was still scrunched up from crying. Lorna felt tired, she was still recovering from what she'd been told was a comparatively difficult labor. She wouldn't be able to go on missions for another two weeks. At the moment though, Max needed to be soothed. He was a fussy baby.

At the same time he seemed so perfect, his face round and innocent, his cheeks chubby. She lifted him up and nuzzled her nose against his.

"It's time for your nap, okay?" Lorna said.

Max yawned and batted at her. She laughed and cradled him in her arms. Lorna hummed to him as she took him to his cradle and, before she knew it, words came to her lips.

"Der Vater hüt't die Schaf," Lorna sang, "Die Mutter schüttelt's Bäumelein, da fällt herab ein Träumelein. Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf."

She closed her eyes and nuzzled her forehead against his.

"Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf," Lorna murmured, "Am Himmel ziehn die Schaf. Die Sternlein sind die Lämmerlein, der Mond, der ist das Schäferlein. Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf."

She opened her eyes. Max yawned and his eyelids began to droop. Lorna smiled in triumph.

"Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf," Lorna whispered, "So schenk' ich dir ein Schaf. Mit einer goldnen Schelle fein, das soll dein Spielgeselle sein. Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf."

Lorna laid Max in his cradle as the door opened. Lorna turned around and put her finger to her lips as Alex walked in. He smiled tiredly at her and glanced at Max, his smile widening. She backed quietly out of the nursery and closed the door slightly.

"He's asleep," Lorna said, "Exhausted himself from trying to get my attention."

"I know what that's like," Alex said.

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. He tentatively put his hands around her waist.

"How did the mission go?" Lorna asked.

Alex didn't say anything. She felt her heart sink and she closed her eyes.

"You ran into my father, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yes," Alex said.

"And you told him about Max, didn't you?" she said.

Lorna didn't give him a chance to answer.

"Of course you did," she said, "Because that's what you do when you make a promise: you fulfill it."

She opened her eyes. Alex was looking at her with a desolate expression.

"Lorna, I only had a few minutes," he said, "And I tried to explain-"

Lorna put her hand over his mouth.

"I know you did," Lorna said.

She choked back tears. She wasn't going to cry over this. Not anymore. Lorna let her hand slip from his lips.

"What did he say?" she asked.

Alex sighed.

"He didn't say anything," Alex said, "He just...looked at me. And then he turned and walked away."

Lorna took a deep breath.

"I knew this would happen. Not that specifically, but something like it," she said, "He's stubborn."

She shrugged, even though she knew that the gesture was weak and abortive.

"Lorna-" Alex said.

"I just hoped...after Max was born and I really started thinking about it I hoped..." Lorna said.

She swallowed.

"Well, Carly's father didn't approve of her marrying Hank, but he was interested in his grandchild," Lorna said, "It's why he made peace, why they still talk."

Alex gripped her waist tighter.

"Max is perfect," he said, his voice low and reassuring.

"I know," Lorna said.

She reached up and touched his cheek.

"His father isn't bad either," Lorna said.

She smiled.

"And I'm so happy that I have both of you," she said.

Lorna tilted her head up and kissed him. She'd made her choice years ago. As she had once told Alex: there was no point in regretting it now. Not when it had given her so much.


	8. Chapter 8

June 8, 1979

"So he's gonna be a teacher?" Kurt asked.

"No, it's not like a teacher," David said, "It's kind of like a teacher in training."

Kurt nodded and took his paints down. David had heard his parents mention getting him oil ones soon.

"So will I call them both Mr. Summers?" Kurt asked, "Scott an' Alex."

"Yep," David said, "And you have to call Ororo Ms. Munroe."

"Why?" Kurt asked.

"That's just how it is," David shrugged, "They're gonna be teachers in training. That's what that ceremony-thing we had to sit through meant. And Jean's gonna be Dr. Grey soon. In a few years or something."

"Like Hank?" Kurt asked.

David frowned. He couldn't believe that it was becoming so difficult to keep track of everyone now.

"He's a senator now," David said.

"So Uncle Hank?" Kurt asked, "No doctor?"

David threw his hands into the air.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, "But Jean took over for Annie a few years back, so I guess it makes sense."

"Annie?" Kurt asked.

"Remember, light hair, used to baby-sit us?" David asked.

"Oh," Kurt said.

Below him Kurt began to paint the picture he'd drawn of a tree. He kept turning the paintbrush in different ways to create the rough texture of bark. David recognized the tree that he was drawing.

"Why'd you want draw that?" he asked, "That tree's ugly."

Kurt cocked his head, his tail wagging.

"It's pretty," he said, "Just different."

David rolled his eyes. He didn't understand his brother at the moment, and he had the feeling it would take too long for him to explain. Kurt's vocabulary also faded in and out at times.

"Hey David?" Kurt asked.

"What?" David said.

"Scott is Mr. Summers, Ororo is Ms. Munroe," he said, "Jean is Dr. Grey."

"Yep," David said.

Kurt frowned.

"What's Calvin and Clarice?" he asked.

David scratched his head.

"You know, I don't know," he said.

* * *

The party was loud. Clarice stood on the edge of it, holding a beer. They technically weren't supposed to have alcohol near Westchester, but they were far enough into the woods for it to be alright. The night was warm, and the bonfire was making it even warmer, but no one seemed to care.

Ororo and some of her friends had gotten a radio, and tunes filled the air. There was food too: everyone had chipped in to get pizzas. There was plenty of it, although Clarice didn't feel like eating.

Their graduation ceremony had taken place earlier that day. She had completed her four year degree along with the rest of the X-men. Jean was still in college: she was going for her medical degree. Everyone else had finished though, and tomorrow would begin the first day of the rest of their lives.

Ororo and Scott had been offered, and accepted, positions as teachers' aides at the school. Although Jean was still studying, she was technically the current medical support. She would be the official support soon. It was suitable.

Warren had sent word that he had finished his business degree. He was going to join his father in Worthington Industries. Ororo had sounded worried, and Clarice knew that Alex shared her concerns. Warren and his father had never really gotten along.

Clarice had decided to take a position as an accountant at a firm in Los Angeles. Her grades had spoken for her. She couldn't help but be nervous, even though she'd heard that California was very accepting of mutants.

However, as result she would be leaving not only Westchester, but the X-men as well. Her decision to leave had shaken her, but she'd known it was for the best. She couldn't hide at Westchester forever. The rest of the X-men had been surprised, but Alex had been understanding. Alex had told them that there was a time where they would all move on and let the next generation take over as X-men. It had left the rest of them thoughtful, and perhaps a little uncertain.

There was as strange finality about her decision. She leaned against a tree. She knew that Westchester was going to continue on after she left, that the X-men would continue fighting for their kind. At the same time, she couldn't help but feel like everything was ending.

Everything was always temporary for her though. Her life before Sinister's labs had been fragile, and her life inside it even more so. Why should Westchester be any different? Why should anything she have be different, anything that belonged to her?

"Hey."

She turned and smiled. Calvin was standing next to her. He grinned as he walked up to her.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Fine," she said, "I'm just..."

She gestured around her.

"I'm just going to miss all of this," she said.

Clarice paused, and then reached out to take his hand. His fingers twined with hers.

"I think I know what you mean," she said.

He nodded. Like Clarice he had chosen to move on. He was going to Miami to be a counselor for at-risk-youth. He'd been so excited when he'd been accepted. It seemed like the perfect match for him, but Miami was a long way from Los Angeles. He was one more thing that she was losing.

They hadn't talked much about it. Clarice had hoped that she wouldn't have to. Now there wasn't much of a choice.

"We're going to stay in touch," Calvin said, "It's not going to change how I feel."

"I know," Clarice said, "It's just..."

She sighed.

"I just wish I'd had more than four years with you," she said.

Calvin laughed.

"I'm just grateful you went out with me in the first place," he said.

She smiled and he kissed her. Clarice remembered the first time he'd done that. She had been so confused by the gesture, almost uncomfortable at the intimacy and his closeness. He'd been so nervous though, and she couldn't help but find it endearing.

Now she was comfortable with his kisses and casual touches. Despite everything she felt happy with his lips on hers, with his arms around her. She wished that he had come to the Institute years earlier, that things would have lasted longer. She wished he had been a little more permanent.

"Come on," he said, "Let's go somewhere a little quieter."

She nodded and set her beer bottle down by the tree. Calvin pulled her away from the noise and deeper into the woods. Before long the noise from the party had faded and all she could hear was the sound of their footsteps.

Calvin turned to her. She could just barely make out his face in the dim light cast by a few fireflies. The woods around Westchester seemed populated with them.

"You know, for a long time you represented everything that I wasn't," Calvin said, "Everything I had never been, everything I had failed to be."

"You should have hated me for that," Clarice said.

"How could I?" Calvin said.

He coughed and wrapped his hands around her wrists.

"I've been thinking about today for a long time," he said, "And, well..."

He looked at her.

"I don't want to lose you," he said.

"You won't," Clarice said.

She knew her voice trembled, and she hated it. Clarice wasn't used to letting her doubts show, but even though she should have known better, she knew that she had already lost him. Who knew when they would see each other again? In her life whenever she could lose something, she would.

Somehow it hurt worse than it had before. There were doors that were opened now, doors she sometimes wished had stayed shut. It seemed ungrateful, but it was true. Calvin had spent four long years battering some doors down and picking the locks on others. Her friends had been there with him, pushing and coaxing the doors open.

She hated the doors opening because they meant that she wanted things she couldn't have. She loved them because the wanting was sweet and gentle. It reminded her of life before she'd been put into Sinister's lab and shown just how cruel life could be.

Now, despite what she wanted, she was going to lose him. He was going to Miami, and she didn't hate him for that, even if she wanted to. She wanted him with her, wanted to be twenty-two forever, but it never worked out that way.

She sought for some way to express all of this. As her mind raced for words Calvin smiled and got down on his knees. Clarice stared.

"Calvin," she said, "What are you doing?"

One of his hands reached into his pocket.

"Clarice, there's a lot I want from you, and I know it's not fair to ask it," he said, "But...I can't leave this Institute without asking this."

He opened a small black box. A small ring gleamed softly at her, a small pearl set in the middle.

"I know we're young, and I know it seems like a lot," Calvin said, "But I want you to be my wife."

Clarice put her hand in front of her mouth, turning her head and closing her eyes.

"Calvin...you can't...you have to know that this won't work," she said.

"Why not?" Calvin said.

His hand clutched hers, his voice soft.

"How can you say that, knowing everything you know?" Clarice said.

She pulled her hand away from his, feeling her heart breaking.

"Clarice-" he started.

"You and I, we know what it's like when things aren't settled," Clarice said, "We're young, and more than that, we only just have jobs. We don't have any money, we don't have anything. We don't have a house or an apartment or anything."

"I'm not saying we get married right now," Calvin said, his voice pleading, "Maybe wait a few years-"

"And have you fall in love with some pretty girl in Miami?" Clarice said, "No way in hell."

Calvin recoiled as if she'd slapped him. Immediately Clarice bit her lip.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Calvin looked down.

"There's no one for me but you," he said, "You know that."

"Right now, yes," Clarice said, "Two years from now, four years, ten, who knows?"

Tears were blurring her eyes and she started to form a crystal in her hand. She needed to get away.

"No, please no!"

Calvin grabbed her hands and the half formed crystal fell out. She opened her eyes and glared at him.

"Let me go," she said.

"If you tell me one thing first, then yes, yes I will," he said.

He took a deep breath.

"Do you love me enough to marry me?" he asked, "Forget everything else, but do you? I won't take it as a yes..."

She hesitated. Clarice sank down so she was level with him, putting her hands on the sides of his face.

"Yes," she said.

"Then why?" he asked.

Clarice knew she didn't have to answer, but she could hear the heartbreak in his voice.

"Nothing's permanent," she said, "In two years you'll have changed your mind or-"

"I won't," he said.

His voice was firm and his expression determined.

"Clarice, a few years ago I think I would have believed what you do," he said, "And I know I'll never understand the pain you went through, never even be able to compare it to anything I've gone through. But when I came to the Institute I know what I wanted: a different life where I wasn't some outcast. And I got it, even if it took years."

He let go of her wrists and wrapped it around her.

"I'd like to have you too," he said, "I don't care how long I have to wait."

Clarice took a deep breath in. She closed her eyes for a minute, willing herself to believe that something could be permanent.

"Ask me again," she said.

"What?" he whispered.

"Ask me again," Clarice said.

His hand came around between them, showing her the ring.

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

Clarice took another breath.

"Yes," she said.

Immediately she felt his lips on hers. She clutched his shoulders, feeling how solid he was. He was real, permanent. She had to believe that.


	9. Chapter 9

October 31, 1980

"This is awesome!" Kurt said.

He straightened his silver cloth armor as he looked in the mirror. His mother laughed and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Stop pulling it," she said, "We wouldn't want anything to rip. I'm not such a great seamstress you know."

Kurt grinned and looked into the mirror again. He'd always loved Halloween. Everyone dressed up and the first floor classrooms were given over to trick-or-treating, jack-o-lanterns at every turn, the ceilings hung with paper bats. His mother would always escort him and his brother around the different classrooms. Once they were done they would go into the haunted house that the older kids set up every year.

After that they went up into their father's office. He'd tell them ghost stories and pick out which treats they could eat that night, right after their mother took a picture of them in their costumes. She always insisted for some reason. The next morning they'd have to put their costumes away, but for that night they could dress up and run around looking for candy.

That Halloween was even better though. Now that David was ten their parents said that they could go by themselves. Kurt could hardly wait. He turned from the mirror, still grinning.

"Mama, do you think I look like a real knight?" he asked.

"Of course you do," she said, "Fit for King Arthur's court."

Kurt laughed just as the door burst open. Kurt whipped his head around. His brother stood in the doorway, brandishing a wooden sword, the twin of the one that Kurt had. He wore a green cape and brown clothes. He wasn't wearing any shoes and a golden ring hung on a chain around his neck.

"Kurt, you up for killing some orcs?" he asked.

"Yep! Where are they?" Kurt asked.

His mother shook his head.

"Both of you, no killing," she said.

David frowned and walked out of the doorway, his wooden sword dragging on the floor.

"You're no fun mom," he said.

"Your mother's quite right David," his father said, wheeling himself into the room, "While I admire you enthusiasm, there might be a better channel for it."

He ruffled David's hair.

"Such as the acquirement of candy," he said.

"Yeah!" David said.

He punched the air. David walked over and grabbed Kurt's spare hand.

"Let's get going," he said.

"Wait a minute," his father said.

Kurt turned to him and David sighed.

"You're gonna give us rules, aren't you?" he asked.

"Of course I am," his father said, "I wouldn't be a father if I didn't do that."

David's frown deepened but Kurt waited, his tail swishing back and forth.

"Now, no jostling other children while you're waiting," his father said, "And no stealing more candy from the bowl when the teachers aren't looking."

He leaned forward.

"And lastly," he said, "you have to go through the haunted house with the lights on."

"Awww," David said.

"No 'awws,'" his father said, "You're both very young."

"Your father's right," his mother said, "Stay close to each other and go in when the lights are on. I don't want any of you having nightmares later, okay?"

"Fine," David mumbled.

He looked up at them.

"Can we go now?" he asked.

"Go ahead," his father said.

David grinned and pulled Kurt's hand. The two of them hurried out, taking the steps two at a time. By the time they got downstairs the trick or treating had already started. For a moment they just stood on the staircase, looking at everyone's costumes. David turned to him, his eyes lighting up.

"Let's get started," he said.

He jumped down the remaining steps, dragging Kurt with him. Together they threaded through the different crowds until they reached the table with the trick-or-treating bags. David grabbed two and passed one to Kurt.

They walked into the classroom that Kurt usually spent his day in. Alex was in charge of handing out candy in that room, and they got in line behind a few other kids. Kurt remembered that Alex hadn't dressed up when he was younger, and he rarely handed out candy.

Now he was passing out candy in an aviator's uniform. Kurt vaguely remembered that he had started dressing up around the same time that Lorna had appeared. She'd told him once that she hadn't had Halloween when she was younger. Kurt couldn't imagine what that must have been like.

While they waited Lorna swept in wearing a flowing blue gown with a crown on her head. She passed Max, who was dressed as a pumpkin, to Alex, who looked relieved to be leaving. He waved at both of them before leaving the room.

Lorna smiled when she saw them.

"Trick-or-treat," they chorused.

She picked up the bowl, balancing it on her hip.

"Let me guess," she said, "Frodo and Aragorn?"

"Frodo and a knight," David said, "It wouldn't make sense if he was Aragorn Aunt Lorna."

"And why's that?" Lorna asked.

He looked at Kurt. Kurt made a face, wondering why she didn't understand. It seemed obvious to him. He hoped David would be able to explain.

"I'm taller than he is," David said, "If we were dressing up he'd have to be Frodo and I'd have to be Aragorn."

Lorna laughed quietly.

"Okay, okay," she said.

She reached into the bucket of candy. Kurt and David held their bags out expectantly. She put a few pieces in each bag.

"Have fun you two," she said.

"We will," David said.

They weaved their way in and out of a few rooms before coming up to the haunted house. Kurt stood on his tip-toes. No one had told them what the theme was, even though Terry was old enough to be involved in it. She'd told them that it was too important to let them know. He thought she was only being closed-lipped because her father had come back and was in charge of it that year, but he didn't say it. David had and gotten glared at.

He saw her at the entryway, a black wig disguising her red hair. She was wearing a gold circlet and white dress, as well as several bracelets. David waved to her and she walked over.

"What did you do to your hair?" Kurt asked.

"Egyptians have black hair," Terry said, "I'm playing an Egyptian princess guide."

"So, mummies?" David said.

"Yeah, you'd know that if you'd looked at the entrance," she said.

David rolled his eyes.

"Terry!" Kurt heard a voice call, "We need you up here!"

"Coming!" Terry said.

She grinned.

"I'll see you in a bit," she said, "Hope you don't mind getting scared out of your minds."

"We're not wussies," David said.

She smirked and ran to the beginning of the line. Kurt looked up at David.

"Is it really going to be scary?" he said.

"Nah, it's never too scary," David said.

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked.

"I'm sure," David said, "Besides, the lights will be on."

"Thanks," Kurt said.

David tapped Kurt's shoulder playfully.

"Hey, are you two done yet? You're holding up the line!"

Kurt looked behind him. An older kid dressed as a policeman stood behind them, his arms folded. Another boy with dark hair dressed as a football player stood awkwardly behind him.

"What are you talking about Jaime?" David said.

David looked irritated. Kurt wondered if his brother knew the boy. David was pretty smart, so some of his classes were more advanced. He knew a couple of older kids as a result.

"The line's moving and you're standing still," Jaime said.

Kurt looked in front of them. A few more students had gone in when they weren't looking.

"Oh, sorry," David shrugged.

"Just pay attention from now on," Jaime said, "Idiot."

David's expression hardened.

"You're one to talk," he said, "I'm not the one who doesn't do the reading."

Jaime's eyes narrowed.

"You're not even a mutant," he said.

David stiffened.

"How do you know?" David asked, "I'm not old enough to tell."

He saw his brother grip his candy bag tighter.

"Besides," he said, "It doesn't matter."

Jaime snorted.

"You think you're so above it all just because your father owns the school?" Jaime asked,

The boy behind Jaime put a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, I think you should stop," he said.

Jaime shook his hand off.

"Shut up John," he said.

Kurt moved closer to David, feeling nervous. David looked down at him and breathed in, the sound harsh.

"Go away Jaime," he said, "Come on Kurt."

He grabbed Kurt's hand and jerked him forward.

"Have fun with the lights on!" Jaime called, "I don't know why you both bothered to dress up: you're ugly enough and your brother always looks like he's wearing a costume!"

Kurt blinked, his eyes wide. David whirled around and Kurt looked at Jaime. Jaime looked shocked, his mouth open slightly like he didn't know what he'd just seen. John was staring at Jaime and Kurt blinked again, unsure of what had just been said.

Then David let go of Kurt's hand and moved forward. His fist connected with Jaime's nose, sending him back. Kurt shrank back as David hit him again.

"You take that back!"

Jaime shoved David forwards, knocking him into the wall. David got to his feet and launched himself at Jaime again. John stepped back, looking like he was lost. Kurt saw Jaime push David away again and David kicked him. Jaime snarled at him and Kurt felt the wall pressing against his back as he tried to move out of their way.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?"

Terry's father made his way through the crowd, pushing the two apart. Some of his mummy's wrappings came undone Jaime looked embarrassed, but David still looked angry.

"You take that back!" he shouted.

"David!" Terry's father said.

David struggled against Terry's father's arm. Kurt saw Terry run forward, her eyes looking over the small group.

"What happened?" she asked.

"They were being mean and David got angry," Kurt said.

Terry's father looked over at Kurt, and then glanced at John.

"What happened here?" he asked, "And don't lie."

John closed his eyes. Terry's father glared at Jaime and Jaime looked at the ground.

"I said something mean about Kurt," Jaime said.

"You said he always looked like he was wearing a costume!" David yelled.

Terry's father's face changed. He took a deep breath.

"Jaime, go to your room. I'll have Mr. Summers talk to you in a bit," he said.

He looked over at David and Kurt.

"I'm taking you two back up to your parents," he said, "Terry, I'm leaving you in charge for a while. Got it?"

"Got it," Terry said.

Terry's father nodded and ushered David and Kurt upstairs. David stared ahead, his expression angry. His lip was bleeding and he made no effort to wipe the blood away. Kurt looked down. He knew his brother was in trouble, and he couldn't help but feel that it was his fault somehow. He wasn't sure why though, and he didn't know what Jaime had meant.

As they got closer to his father's office Kurt twisted his candy bag in his hands. Terry's father knocked on the door. His mother opened it, looking at them with surprise.

"You're here early- David, what happened?" she asked.

"There was a little fight downstairs," Terry's father said.

His father wheeled forward. Terry's father tapped his head and his father closed his eyes. When he opened them again they were wide. His mother turned to him and he tapped his temples. Kurt had often seen his father do that when he was reading someone's thoughts. He supposed they were doing that now. She nodded.

She put a hand in front of her mouth.

"Thank you Sean," she said, "We can take it from here."

Terry's father nodded and left. His mother gestured for them to come in and shut the door behind them.

"Sit," his father said.

They both did so, Kurt still glancing at David. There was silence for a moment, and Kurt breathed in.

"Dad, it's not his fault," Kurt said, "Jaime was being mean and-"

"Kurt, please," his father said.

Kurt fell silent. His father looked at David.

"What do you have to say?" he said.

David clenched his hands into fists.

"I wish I'd hit him harder," he said.

"David!" his mother said.

"David, I understand what you're feeling," his father said, "But you can't resolve your feelings with your fists."

"He wasn't listening to me!" David said.

"I know," his father said, "And I also know how frustrating that can be. But it doesn't give you an excuse to pick a fight."

"We know you wanted to defend your brother," his mother said, "But that wasn't the way to do it."

David looked away.

"Why did he say that?" David asked.

His father sighed.

"Because he wanted to hurt you," his father said, "And...because I don't think he fully understood what he was saying. It's a strange world that we're in, and we knew you would encounter this sort of thing sooner or later."

Kurt's mother stood by their father and held his hand.

"We'd just hoped it would be later, and not from someone here," she said, "I know it's difficult, but you can't do this again."

David glared at the floor. Kurt just stared at his parents.

"I know it's hard to understand, but it will make sense when you're older," his father said.

He smiled slightly.

"Now," he said, "I picked out some stories that I think you'll enjoy. How about you all pick out a treat for yourselves this year?"

Kurt smiled, although he still felt uncertain. He didn't know what had happened downstairs, and he didn't know why he would have to encounter something like that again. However, as he dug through his candy bag, surrounded by his parents and brother, he found it hard to believe that it would.


	10. Chapter 10

January 20, 1982

David tapped his pencil against his book, feeling bored. In front of the class Mr. Guthrie was talking about the class's latest reading. David wished he'd just stopped talking: he could care less about the societal norms shown in _Pride and Prejudice. _If Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet had just bothered to talk to each other than they would have saved him a few hundred pages of reading.

Usually he liked historical books. History and English were his best subjects: they were the ones that he took advanced classes in. However, he didn't like romances. If he'd had to read a romance novel he would have preferred it to be _Wuthering Heights_. He didn't like the characters in it as much as he liked the ones in _Pride and Prejudice_, but it was more interesting. More people died.

Ever since he'd gotten placed in the English class with the older kids the books they'd assigned had been distinctly less interesting. He was still waiting for them to discuss a book he actually liked, like _Lord of the Rings_ or something with magic in it. The only books he'd actually liked that they had assigned were the ones about Tom Sawyer and Huckelberry Finn. They'd actually given him a few ideas.

At the front of the class he saw Jaime pass John a note.

_This is your best one yet. I like the way you did his eyes when he squints._

David blinked. He'd figured that they were exchanging caricatures of Mr. Guthrie again. He had a distinct Southern accent that made some of his lectures hard to understand. He couldn't say he approved, but mostly because he still didn't trust Jaime.

He hadn't thought that they would talk about it though. He looked at Mr. Guthrie, who just kept talking. David frowned. He supposed that he was too into his lecture to notice. It didn't seem likely, but Mr. Guthrie did have a loud voice.

Up near the front he saw Terry scribbling something in her notebook. She was wearing a Band-Aid on her forehead. She'd told everyone that she'd bumped into the wall the other day, but David knew the truth. She'd been in a Danger Room session, her father teaching her some of the techniques that the X-men knew. She hadn't committed to being an X-man yet, but she'd asked her father to teach her how to defend herself. Her father hadn't argued with her.

David was envious. Even if she had to sit through Mr. Guthrie's lecture at least she had the opportunity to do something interesting afterwards. He looked out the window at the falling snow. Maybe he could get Kurt and have a snowball fight with some of his friends later, if Mr. Guthrie didn't assign any more reading.

"All right," Mr. Guthrie said, "Our time's up y'all, so remember there's a test Friday."

David scooped up his books and headed out. He ducked past a few students and headed for the doorway. It was a little difficult to hold everything in his hands: the books seemed too big. David felt a little embarrassed as he struggled to stack everything.

Jaime moved out of his way as David walked towards the door. He always avoided him, and David liked it that way. David had almost made it when he dropped his first book. Madison, another student, caught it before it hit the ground.

"Thanks," David said.

"No problem. Need some help?" he asked.

"I've got it," David said.

He shifted his books.

"If you could put it on top?" he asked.

"Sure thing," Madison said.

He placed the book on top of the rest of his books.

_You need a book bag or something. You're going to hurt yourself. _

"Usually I can handle it," David said.

"Huh?" Madison said.

"It's just a few extra books today 'cause I've got a math test day after tomorrow," David said, "I don't need a book bag."

Madison paused.

"I didn't say anything," he said.

"Yes you did," David said.

Madison frowned. His brother Lionel, who was in David's history class, rushed by and grabbed him by his shoulder.

"Come on," he said, "You're gonna miss the basketball game otherwise."

_And it's gonna be great. They've got a great line up, and it's gonna be crowded in the rec room if you don't hurry up._

Madison nodded and allowed himself to be pulled away. David walked into the hallway, still balancing his books. Another student bumped into him.

_Watch it know-it-all._

David looked up, trying to see who had said that. He didn't see anyone though and he shrugged it off. He'd learned to take know-it-all as a compliment anyway. His father and Uncle Hank were know-it-alls, and they were awesome and everyone liked them. He figured people who used the term were jealous.

Across the hall another class let out.

_Oh my God, I hope I never take Calculus. I'm going to see if I can get transferred next year._

David frowned and shifted his books.

"Hey David," Terry said, catching up, "You need help?"

"I'm fine," he said.

Terry rolled her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

_I think this thing is giving me a headache. _

"You can't get a headache that way," David said.

"What do you mean?" Terry asked.

"From your cut," David said, "I don't think so anyway."

_Wow, that obvious huh? I need to stop rubbing my forehead. _

"I knew that," Terry said.

"Then why do you think it's going to give you a headache?" he asked, "And you do need to stop rubbing your forehead. I think that might be causing it."

Terry paused and looked at him.

_I need to get Mr. Guthrie. Someone._

"Hey, could you stay here for a minute?" she asked.

"Why do you need Mr. Guthrie?" David asked.

_Yep, definitely happening._

"Just stay here," Terry said.

She turned and started running back to the classroom.

"What's happening?" David called.

She didn't turn back. David frowned and leaned against the wall. Another class let out across the hall.

_I'm five minutes late! The rec room's gonna be packed. Just like Manh to keep us! Why did I take have to take French?_

_Alison's going to be really surprised. Best Birthday gift ever!_

David winced. Everyone was talking really loud. He wished that they would just stop.

_I'm going to flunk anatomy. No way around it. I wonder if I can take something easier next year?_

_No way I'm going to that party Saturday. No way. _

_Man, the P.E. test really is tomorrow! Summer's such a hardass._

It sounded like everyone was screaming. David let go of his books so he could put both of his hands over his ears. They made a loud noise when they dropped, but it was nothing compared to the way everyone was talking.

"Hey, are you alright?"

_What's up with him?_

"Isn't that the Professor's kid?"

_I should get someone. Who do you get for this though? What is this anyway?_

David curled up onto the floor, his fingernails digging into the side of his head. He could feel tears streaming down his face. He wanted to scream at them all to stop, but it hurt too much.

_Woo-hoo, it's almost the weekend-!_

_Wonder what's happening up there-?_

"We should probably stand back-"

_I wanna go home. This place is so weird-_

_What's with that kid-?_

"Give him some air-"

_Is he having a seizure or something?_

_Is this his mutation? Should we be ducking for cover?_

_Is he going to explode?_

"Out of mah way!"

David felt someone pick him up. He recognized Mr. Guthrie's Southern twang and, through tear-drenched eyes, he could see Terry standing in the doorway.

"Terry, run an' get his father!" Mr. Guthrie yelled, "He's in class, but tell him it's urgent!"

_This is bad. _

_Why're they getting his father?_

Terry took off down the hallway, shoving students out of her way as she ran.

_Watch it!_

_Oh my gosh, what's happening up there?_

_Is he okay?_

Mr. Guthrie wrenched the door open to the classroom and pulled him in, slamming the door behind them. The noises became fainter, but it still felt bad.

_Oh God. It's happening. I've never seen it like this before-_

"Never seen what?" David managed.

Another wave of pain made him close his eyes again. Mr. Guthrie sat him down.

_I need to leave. I don't want to, but...calm down. Remember your training._

"We're getting your father," he said, "I'm going to be right outside the door, okay? He's going to be here soon."

_I probably sound like I'm screaming._

At last, someone understood. David heard the door shut and the screaming was dulled. He didn't dare take his hands off his ears though. David pushed himself away from the door with his feet until his back hit the wall. He bowed his head, burying his face.

A few minutes later he heard the door open. David braced himself, waiting for the screaming.

_David, it's alright._

He looked up. His father was in front of him, his face looking panicked. His voice cut through all of the voices, but unlike them, his voice seemed like a whisper.

_It's alright. _

_What happened?_ David asked.

He blinked. David raised a hand and touched his lips, realizing that he hadn't moved them when he spoke. His father smiled sadly.

_You're just manifesting_, he said, _I'm sorry I didn't prepare you. I didn't think it would happen like this: it thought we'd get some warning. I had some warning a few days in advance when it happened to me. _

_What do you mean?_

_You're a telepath, just like me,_ his father said.

David's eyes widened.

_You mean, these are your thoughts?_ he asked, _And the people in the hall? They were thinking all that?_

His father reached out and touched his cheek.

_Yes. I'm so sorry it hurts. It won't, in time. _

_How long? _David thought.

_I'm not sure_, his father thought, _In a little bit, I should think. It was subtle at first for me, but when it came in a rush, well, it'll be over soon. _

_Will it hurt again?_ David thought.

His father sighed.

_Most likely. _

_I don't want it to,_ David thought, feeling tears streaming down his face.

His father took out a handkerchief and started to wipe his eyes.

_I know David, but it will happen. You can't stop it,_ his father thought, _Don't worry: I'll help you with this. You're not alone David. You're not._

David swallowed and looked at the door.

_Do I have to go out there right now?_

_No, not yet._

David nodded and pulled his knees closer to him. His father maneuvered his wheelchair so he was next to him. He felt his father's hand touch his shoulder reassuringly. More tears were coming and David tried to breathe through his nose, but it was clogged.

Outside the whisperings were becoming fainter and fainter. Even so David could barely control his tears.

_Dad?_

_Yes David?_

He looked up at his father.

"Make it go away," he whispered.

His father closed his eyes.

"David, I would spare you any pain if I could," he said, "But I can't change what you are anymore than we can change the number of Kurt's fingers."

He opened his eyes again.

"This is what you are," his father said, "And it's nothing to be ashamed of. You and your brother are special David. What you have is a gift, not a curse."

David looked down at the floor.

"It really hurts," he said.

His father's grip tightened.

"I know David," he said, "I know."


	11. Chapter 11

June 6, 1982

"Sharon, leave it alone," Carly laughed, "You're going to mess up your hair."

Sharon stopped tugging at the bow in her hair. Hank grinned as he adjusted his cuff links. Sharon's hair had grown in quickly, and it was now past her waist. It had proved unmanageable ever since she was a baby. It was fluffy and it had a tendency to go everywhere, even when it was brushed.

Carly, after wrestling with it for a few years, had figured that the best way to deal with it was to pull it back. Currently his daughter's hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a rose colored ribbon that matched her dress. Carly had tied it into a bow to match the bows on her red leather shoes.

Usually she just let Sharon's hair go free and let her dress in shirts, shorts, and overalls, but they were about to go to a press conference about a new measure for mutant affirmative action. Hank had worried, at the beginning, about all of the media exposure Sharon was getting. It was something that many children of politicians had to go through: people liked their representatives with strong family support, and they liked to be reminded. As such Sharon had attended several press conferences since she was a baby.

He wished he could just keep her private, but during his case with the Supreme Court the eyes of the nation had been on them. Luckily Carly's pregnancy hadn't advanced into the stage where it would be noticeable when it all ended. It had gotten him thinking though.

He hadn't thought about factoring a baby into the aftermath of the court case when he had embarked on his suit. Hank had rushed to make room for the arriving new life. With that in mind he had decided to take a slight break from politics until after Sharon had been born.

He didn't regret it. He'd gotten back into the arena when Sharon was three months old, and he'd been surprised at how many people were still waiting for him. He'd been in contact with a few friends during Carly's pregnancy, but it hadn't been anything serious. However, apparently his move back into the political sphere had been anticipated.

Sharon had spent the first two years of her life in Jasper Rhode Island. After his election to the United States Senate they had spent most of their time in Washington. He'd worried about moving her between her two homes in Washington and Rhode Island. There were occasional visits to Westchester, but nothing to complicate their lives too much. Sharon had somehow adapted, and he'd been intrigued by her budding curiosity. When she was four he'd been able to take her around Washington on his shoulders, showing her the different sights. She'd understood less than half of what he'd said.

Still, it was their custom to repeat the tour every year. She was picking things up quickly, but he didn't want to pressure her. She was still very young. She had only just qualified to go to school, and her teachers were giving her positive reports.

He'd worried endlessly about her going to a public school. Sharon was, with her white hair and catlike eyes, an obvious mutant. He had considered sending her to Westchester, but he hadn't wanted her to be parted from them. Carly had seconded his desire, and she'd been kept close.

He could still remember her first public appearance in Carly's arms. He'd watched that news report a few times since its airing. Carly had seemed so proud and Sharon had stared out at the crowd, blinking and watching. As Sharon had grown she'd stayed near Carly, her hand in her mother's. She'd continued to stare at the camera with her slitted eyes, looking absolutely adorable, but also curious.

Behind him Carly turned around to get her earrings. Sharon watched her and climbed onto the couch so she was level with her.

"Mama, I like your necklace," she said.

She reached for Carly's necklace, a teardrop pearl on the end of a silver chain. Carly smiled softly.

"Your father gave it to me," she said.

Sharon leaned back so she was looking at Hank.

"Can I have one too?" she asked.

"When you're older," he said.

Sharon frowned.

"What about now?" she asked.

"That's my final word on the subject," Hank said.

Sharon crossed her arms.

"Promise?" she asked.

"We'll talk when the time comes," he said.

He checked his watch and looked for his folder with his speech in it. As he reached for it he felt a weight land on his back and arms wrap around his neck. He looked back and saw Sharon staring at him.

"Promise?" she asked.

Hank sighed. He supposed that he shouldn't have encouraged Sharon's inclination for climbing on things. He supposed he made a daunting target, given the fact that he was taller than Carly and less likely to fall when she tackled him. While it pleased him that she was active, the fur she pulled out was getting to him.

The phone rang. He looked at it and then back to his daughter.

"I promise," Hank said, "Now get down. Now is not the time to wrestle, alright?"

Sharon slid down, folding her arms again. Carly shook her head as he walked over to the phone.

"You're too old to be doing that Sharon," she said, "And you've got wrinkles all over your dress now."

She smoothed out her daughter's skirt. Hank picked up the phone.

"Senator McCoy," he said.

He listened for a minute. He rubbed his temples.

"Yes, I see," he said, "It shouldn't make that much difference: we should have expected this one day anyway."

He sighed again.

"Yes, I'll see you there."

He set the phone down and gazed back at his wife and daughter. Carly had almost banished the last of the wrinkles out of Sharon's dress.

"It's not that wrinkled," Sharon said.

"It's wrinkled enough," Carly said, "You need to be more careful in the future."

Sharon looked down a her shoes and dug them into the wood flooring.

"I don't like dresses," she said, "They get wrinkled too easy. They're in the way."

Carly knelt down in front of her.

"It's only for a little bit," she said, "And then we're going to come home and have ice cream, just like we always do."

Sharon grinned.

"I like the ice cream," she said.

"I know," Carly said.

She got up.

"Ready Hank?" she asked.

He hesitated a moment.

"The FOH are sending a representative to the press conference," he said.

His wife paused and put her hands on Sharon's shoulders protectively. They hadn't heard much from the FOH since the night they had kidnapped Carly. Later, several reporters had done the math and realized that Carly had been pregnant with Sharon during the case and her subsequent kidnapping. It had done much to tarnish the Friends of Humanity, and he'd taken some satisfaction from that.

He still couldn't believe that some branches of the FOH survived, citing that Graydon Creed was an extremist and that not all of them prescribed to his beliefs. It was such a blatant lie that Hank wanted to be ill. However, he knew that he had to pick his battles with care. Thus far the FOH had steered clear of him, unwilling to open the can of worms that would result if they were seen together.

It hadn't stayed that way.

"Mama, what's that?" Sharon asked.

"Bad people," Carly said.

She looked down at Sharon and kissed her on her forehead.

"Don't worry though," she said.

Carly got to her feet, slowly letting go of Sharon's shoulders. She walked over to Hank and grasped his hands.

"Well, you'll just have to show the world how ignorant those bigots are," she said, "Again."

"Some people don't seem to find ignorance as much of a hindrance as I'd like," Hank said.

Carly tilted her head.

"Ignorance is the curse of God: knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven," she said.

Hank smiled.

"_Henry VI_, part two," he said.

"Right," she said.

She squeezed his hand and walked over to Sharon. She took their daughter's hand and nodded triumphantly at him. Hank couldn't believe her strength, her courage.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

He picked up his folder and tucked it under his arm.

"I'm ready," he said.

Carly grinned and tucked her arm into his. Together they walked out of the house towards the waiting car. There were a few aides milling around. One of them was shuffling papers. He waved at Hank and Carly before frowning.

"Senator McCoy, where's your speech?" he asked.

Hank rubbed his forehead. Next to Carly Sharon started rubbing her face. Carly let go of Hank's hand so she could stop her.

"It's in the house," he said.

"A little forgetful this morning are we?" Carly asked.

"You two get settled. I'll be back in a minute," Hank said.

Carly kissed him on the cheek and headed towards the car. Hank nodded to the aide and walked back towards the house. As he did he felt his hackles rise. He frowned at the sensation, frowned at the way his ears flattened themselves against his head.

He sniffed the air and stopped. His hackles were still raised and his entire body seemed on edge. Something was wrong. There was a strange, smoky and yet metallic smell in the air. It was faint, but with another whiff he knew exactly what it was.

Hank whipped around as Carly walked towards the car, swinging hands with Sharon.

"No!" he shouted.

Carly turned around to look at him and time slowed down. He saw her eyes widen and her lips part, her hair swirling around her. He saw Sharon's eyes fill with surprise, her spare hand still rubbing her face. Then the car exploded.

* * *

Kurt woke up to a ringing noise. For a moment he worried that it was his alarm clock and it was time to get up. Then he saw that it was dark outside. He heard footsteps down the hall and the ringing stopped.

Feeling curious he got out of bed and crept to his door. He cracked it open and saw Alex at the phone.

"Hank, slow down," he said.

Kurt cocked his head. He watched as Alex gripped the edge of the table that the phone rested it on.

"Oh God, Hank...I..."

There was a pause.

"I'm coming down there," he said, "I'm coming down there right now, understand? I'll be there in half an hour, tops."

There was another pause and Alex ran a hand through his hair.

"It's going to be alright Hank, I swear it's going to be alright," he said.

He hung up the phone and ran to the end of the hall where Kurt's parents slept. Kurt bit his lip and looked around the hallway. He didn't know what was going on, but he couldn't help but feel worried. Alex's tone was scary, and he didn't know why Hank was calling.

Kurt crept out of his room and walked across the hall to David's room. His brother was asleep, even though he was muttering to himself. Kurt knew that after his brother had started reading people's thoughts he'd started having more nightmares. He didn't want to talk about it though.

He shook him tentatively. David shot up, looking blearily at Kurt.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Kurt said, "Bad stuff I think."

David furrowed his brow. He slid out of bed and walked towards the door. Kurt felt relieved that he had woken up his brother. He seemed to have a better idea of what to do. He followed him as David opened the door a crack. They could just barely hear voices down the hall.

His brother frowned for a minute before walking down the hall. Kurt followed him as they moved towards their parents' room.

"-blew up in front of their house," Alex said.

Kurt heard his mother stifle a gasp.

"Are they alright?" she asked.

David took in a sharp breath next to him.

"I...Hank's fine," Alex said.

His voice sounded choked.

"But Carly and Sharon are in the intensive care unit right now," he said, "Sharon's got some bad burns and they're operating right now, but...Carly..."

David reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand. They exchanged looks. David had no idea what was going on. He was just as scared as Kurt was.

"They're not sure if she's going to make it," Alex said.


	12. Chapter 12

June 6, 1982

Alex strode through the hospital. He would run if he could, but he knew that he had to be careful. This wasn't the Danger Room, and it wasn't a war zone. He didn't go to hospitals often despite all of his injuries. Hank, Annie, and now Jean had always taken care of that, and it made him sick to think of Carly and Sharon being beyond their care.

He flashed his visitor's pass a few times before reaching the intensive care unit. It didn't take him long to find the correct room. He steeled himself, trying to remind himself that anything he felt wasn't going to make any difference. Hank was in anguish, and that was only the last time that Alex had talked to him. A lot could have happened since then.

Alex knocked on the door and waited. There wasn't any answer. Hank must have heard him. One way or another he would have said something, if he could. Alex didn't like what that could mean. Swallowing hard, he opened the door.

Carly was stretched on a bed, her face pale. A bandage ran around her forehead, as well as a few of her arms. Her torso was completely covered. IV's and several other wires were connected to her. He could hear the steady beeping of her heart.

Hank sat next to her, one of his hands delicately holding hers. Sharon was asleep in his arms. There was a cut on her face, but it didn't seem to be deep. Alex could see that some of her white hair had been burned away. Bandages had been wrapped around her arms and legs. He figured that was where she'd been burned.

"Hank?" Alex said.

Hank looked up slightly. It was obvious he'd been crying, turning the fur outlining his eyes a shade darker. It looked like his eyes had been sunk deep into his skull. Once he got past that Alex could see a horrible blankness in his friend's eyes that frightened him.

He closed the door and walked up to him. Alex pulled up a spare chair and sat down. He gestured to Carly, feeling his voice stick in his throat.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

Hank lowered his eyes again. Alex sighed and looked down at the floor.

"Do they know what happened?" he asked.

Hank didn't answer. Sharon shifted a little in Hank's arms. Once she'd shifted Alex could see that one of her hands was fisted in her father's fur. Her eyes seemed streaked with tears too.

"She's in a coma. She took shrapnel from the explosion. It punctured her lung and did damage to her intestine. Not to mention the severe burns. And no one knows who did it. The FOH is a suspect, but there are many others."

Alex stared at his friend. He felt like he'd just been smacked in the face with the information he'd wanted.

"What?" he asked.

"She got a concussion: nothing serious enough to give her brain damage," Hank said, "She's stable. But...with the smoke inhalation and...they don't know when or if she's going to wake up."

Hank's spare hand gripped Sharon tighter.

"Sharon...the doctors say she got off easy because Carly blocked the explosion from her with her body," he said, "Alex, she has a burn shaped handprint where Carly was trying to protect her."

Alex bit the inside of his lip. He wanted to ask more about who had done it, but he knew that he had to refrain and focus on what was important.

"I couldn't get to her in time Alex," he said, "If I had just hurried then I would have been able to save them. I saw them-"

"Hank, no," Alex said, his voice sharp, "Don't blame yourself."

"How can it not be my fault?" Hank said.

His voice began to break.

"They meant to kill me with that explosion," Hank said, "Me. Not Carly, not Sharon. They couldn't care less about them. They wanted to kill me, and instead I'm fine, but my daughter's covered with burns and my wife's in a coma."

Alex tried to speak, but Hank continued.

"This is my fault," Hank said, "I can't..."

His friend bowed his head. Alex reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Hank's eyes flickered to him.

"Hank..." he said.

Alex felt himself floundering. He had known Hank for a long time. He'd seen him shut himself up in his lab after his transformation, seen him hide from the rest of the world when experiments failed or when he lost a patient.

Never before had he seen his self-loathing reached such heights. He could see it his eyes: Hank hated himself. Alex wished he could tell him those feelings were foolish, but he couldn't. He couldn't imagine how it would feel if anything happened to Lorna or Max because he was an X-man.

"She wouldn't want you to feel that way," Alex said.

"No," Hank said, "Because that's who she is. And it's because I'm who I am that she's in a coma."

"And who she is," Alex said.

Hank tilted his head up slightly. Alex didn't know if his words were going to make any sense or help, but he had to have faith that they would.

"Hank, she followed you in your cause," he said, "She supported you, but she was involved too. And so was Sharon. You're fighting to give her a better world, aren't you? That's what it's all for."

He shook his head.

"This isn't your fault," he said, "You were doing the right thing, trying to fight a war with peace and words instead of guns and knives. You chose a better way and they fought dirty."

Alex clenched his hand into a fist.

"This is their fault Hank, whoever it is, and you're playing into their hands right now," he said, "You know these types of guys, and you know they won't quit. You're just moving over and telling them that they won. You can't do that: not now."

He hated himself for what he was about to say, but he couldn't leave Hank without a cause, without a clear path forward. Hank had always needed a cause, something to test and fight for.

"You owe it to Carly, and you owe it to Sharon," he said.

Hank sighed. He held his wife's hand closer and closed his eyes.

"I need her," he said, "And I need Sharon."

"I understand," Alex said.

Hank hesitated.

"But I need them safe first. They can't stay here," he said, "Carly's stable so she can be moved, but I don't want her in Washington right now. I don't want Sharon here either."

He bowed his head again.

"But I have to stay here, don't I?" he asked, "Otherwise it'll look like I'm running."

His voice sounded bitter.

"Yeah," Alex said.

He gripped Hank's shoulder tighter.

"I know this is hard," he said, "And I'm sorry."

Hank drew in a breath. Alex realized that he was crying again.

"Sharon's so young..." he said, "Her mother, my wife..."

Alex didn't say anything. There wasn't anything he could say to that.

"I suppose it doesn't matter though," Hank said, "Children always suffer the most during war. Now...now..."

He leaned over and kissed his daughter on the top of her head.

"Now I just want her safe," he said, "Her and her mother."

"I can get them to safety," Alex said, "The question is, what do you want to do?"

Hank turned to him. His eyes no longer held the blankness that he'd seen. Instead they were full of fire, a fierce, animalistic anger.

"I want to bring down the people who did this," he said, "I want to see them in ashes, and I want to make sure that they never touch my family ever again."

Alex nodded.

"I think we can do that," he said.

* * *

Sean got up, straightening his jacket. Phil stood behind him, his arms crossed. Further back Sean could see Phil's son. He had entered SHIELD as soon as he'd gotten his associate's degree. Sean hadn't had too much contact with him, but he was turning out to be a chip off the old block.

Both their children were.

"Find anything?" Phil said.

"It wasn't a bomb, I can tell you that much," he said, "It looks like it was something that was fired from a distance."

Sean stared at the remains of what had once been his friend's car. He wished that he could be with Hank then, comforting him over what had happened, but they needed to find out who had attacked his family. Even though he deserved an army to tell him that everything was going to be okay, he had Alex.

That would have to be enough until he found the maniacs who had done this.

"It's advanced, I can tell you that much," he said.

"Great," Phil said, "Now we don't just have an attempted political assassination over a hotbed meta-human issue. We also have assassins using advanced tech."

"It's not just advanced tech," Sean said.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I recognize the direction of the explosion," he said, "It's clean, like it was a laser shot to the gas tank. Something like that would make the gas canister ignite, which explains why the back half of the car sustained more damage than the front. "

"And you recognize it?" Phil asked.

Sean let go of his nose.

"Yes, I do," he said.

"Does that help somehow?" Phil said.

"I don't know," Sean said.

He let out a breath, feeling an old anger resurface.

"We're going to have to talk to Sinister," he said.

* * *

"Boys, I need to have a talk with you."

Kurt looked up. He hadn't told anyone that David and he'd heard what had happened. David had turned on the news with Terry, trying to get more information. They had stayed glued to the TV as mixed reports about Hank and his family filtered in.

If he concentrated he could remember Hank. He'd liked him because he was blue too. He didn't see him too often though, because he was busy in Washington. He could remember Sharon even less, even though he knew she was about his age. He'd seen her a few times along with her mother on the TV. Her picture, along with those of her parents, had flashed on the news when they discussed the attack.

Now his mother looked like she was ready to talk to them. She glanced over at Terry, who was staring at her book with a fixed look. Kurt knew she was worried about her father, who was still away on one of his missions. Kurt wondered if he was going to get involved with what was happening too.

"You too Terry," she said.

Terry immediately put her book down. His mother sat down just as his father came in.

"Where's Lorna?" his mother asked.

"With Max," his father said, "I'm not sure how much he's going to understand though. He's very young."

His father folded his hands.

"By now I know that you all know what happened to Hank and his family," he said, "We had updates from both Alex and Sean recently."

Terry's eyes widened.

"Your father is currently involved in the investigation into what happened," his father said, "The media doesn't know this, but he's worried that the attack used weaponry designed by an old enemy of ours. As for Hank's family, the media doesn't know this either, but Hank's wife, Carly, is stable but in a coma. Sharon suffered burns but nothing major."

He looked at them all.

"I know you all understand that it's dangerous out there right now, and I need you to be careful," he said, "We have no reason to believe that we might be a target, but things are going to change."

Kurt's mother took his hand.

"Carly and Sharon are going to be moved here until they find out who attacked Hank and stop them," he said, "Carly will be in med-bay until she wakens. As for Sharon..."

His voice trailed off. Their mother squeezed his hand.

"She's very young, and she's been through a terrible experience," his mother said, "Now she has to be separated from her father. We want you to be kind to her, let her know that there are people she can trust here."

His father nodded. There was a long silence. Kurt looked over at his brother, who was staring at his father curiously.

"When are they coming?" David asked.

His father closed his eyes.

"They should be here tomorrow."


	13. Chapter 13

June 7, 1982

Sean strode down the hall, Phil close behind him. He swiped his card a few times before getting into the cells. The special SHIELD prison didn't seem secure enough to him. He'd heard rumors that they were working on another facility, but until he saw it he still felt uneasy about the prisoners inside.

It was still the most sophisticated jail that he'd ever seen though. He supposed that was something to be grateful for.

"Do you think that he'll talk?" Phil asked.

"No clue," Sean said, "But he's all that we've got right now."

He rounded another corner. After a moment he made out Sinister's cell. Sinister was sitting on the bench, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes closed. When Sean approached he opened his eyes and gave one of his thin-lipped, spine-tingling smiles.

"Ah, Agent Cassidy," he said, "What a pleasure to see you back."

"Cut the shit," Sean said, "I think you've got an idea why we're here."

His words came out harsh. He'd always tried to imitate Alex when he was interrogating someone. He'd been surprised at his success rate.

"Not necessarily," Sinister said, "Unless it's to enjoy my company, which we both know you do so well."

Sean gritted his teeth.

"Some of your tech showed up during a hit on a mutant politician," he said.

"Ah, Hank McCoy," he said.

Sean stiffened. He knew that Phil had narrowed his eyes next to him.

"Now now," Sinister said, "Don't give me that look. How many mutant politicians are there? I doubt the world has changed that much since I was incarcerated. But I won't give you any trouble on this call. You want to know if I'm ordering hits from inside this cell."

He expanded his arms.

"Don't be silly Cassidy," he said, "SHIELD blocks any ingoing or outgoing messages. I couldn't send a message from here if I wanted to. Besides, why would I want McCoy dead?"

"I don't know why you do anything you do," Sean said.

Sinister tilted his head.

"Now that's not fair," he said, "You know that everything I do is for the good of mutantkind."

"Then how did your tech end up with someone who very definitely doesn't share your noble ideals?" Sean snapped.

Sinister shrugged.

"The Friends of Humanity and I had an agreement some years back. I would give them some of my technology, and they would supply me with a certain specimen," he said, "They renged on the deal though, and I was left without what I wanted. I would have repossessed what I'd given them, but I had other things on my mind."

Sean could feel his heart skip a beat. Then his eyes saw red.

"You gave the Friends of Humanity your tech?" he asked.

"Them and no one else on the explicit instructions that they wouldn't sell or give it away," Sinister said, "I am very protective of my work."

He could hear blood rushing in his ears, the urge to scream at Sinister until his ears bled thrumming in his head. However, he was able to get control of it. He breathed in for a moment before turning around.

"I've heard enough hypocrisy for one day," he said.

"Oh really?" Sinister said, "You think I go out of my way to harm mutants, do you?"

His voice was irritated. Sean shook his head.

"You're doing a bang-up job if you're not," he said.

"You're all so narrow-minded, all of Xavier's children," he said, "Your precious X-men never seem to understand the simple evolutionary concept that the world is owned by the ones that survive."

Sean looked at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't know. To his surprise he saw that Phil was covering his ears. Sean wondered how long he'd been doing that.

"He's quite SHIELD's flunky, isn't he?" Sinister said, "But he has some delightful loyalties."

"Shut up," Sean snapped.

He touched Phil on the shoulder and jerked his head towards the door. They began walking towards it.

"Oh, and give the Senator my regards," Sinister called, "Him and his family."

Sean glared at him once before swiping his way out of SHIELD's prison block.

* * *

"And this is your room."

Sharon looked around her new room, feeling her heart pounding in her throat. It was pleasant enough with a pretty view of the lawn and a nice color to the walls. The bed was neatly made and the closet seemed large.

However, it wasn't her room back in Washington. It didn't have her things in it, her books and toys. It didn't have the nook where she would stuff things when her mother told her to clean her room.

Her mother. Sharon closed her eyes and stifled the tears she wanted to cry. The last she had seen of her mother was in the hospital. She still hadn't woken up, and she looked so pale. Sharon had never seen her mother like that. She had always been so strong.

Now she had to be strong. That was what her father had told her before he'd handed her to Uncle Alex. He'd held her tightly and Sharon had begged to stay with him. He'd just repeated that it wasn't safe, that her mother would be going with her and everything would be fine. She didn't understand why they wouldn't be safe anymore at their home, why her father wasn't coming with her.

The woman behind her, she remembered that she'd said that she could call her Aunt Moira, set her suitcase down. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"If you need anything," she said, "Don't be afraid to ask."

Sharon looked over her shoulder.

"Can I see my mom?" she asked.

She knew she wouldn't be awake, but Sharon wanted to see her, to be near her. Moira shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Jean's still hooking up the machinery downstairs. It's best that she not be disturbed right now: not for a couple of hours at least."

Sharon felt more tears in her eyes, but she nodded. Moira looked at her suitcase.

"Do you need me to help you unpack?" she asked.

"No thank you," Sharon mumbled, "I can do it."

Moira got back to her feet.

"Dinner's in two hours," she said, "I understand if you want it in your room, but don't make a decision just now. Just tell me when the time comes, alright?"

Sharon nodded, wishing she would leave. Moira nodded once more before leaving the room. Sharon waited for the door to close before she started crying. Her knees started to shake and she knelt down, her hair mushrooming around her.

While some of it had been burned off it still went past her shoulders. Sharon grabbed some and used it to hide her face. She didn't want to see the room around her, wanted to pretend that it was her own room and everything was alright. She didn't want to think of the outline of a hand on her arm, bandaged but the fingers splayed as her mother tried to cover her.

She still didn't really know what happened. One moment she had been on her way to a press conference, just like she'd gone countless times before. Her mother had been holding her hand and her father had been heading back to the house. Then her father had shouted and she'd felt an incredible heat on her skin, unlike anything she'd ever felt before.

The next thing she remembered was waking up in the hospital, her father at her side. Her mother had been on the bed next to her. All of her limbs had hurt and been wrapped in bandages. Her father had smiled weakly, picking her up into his arms as he whispered about her mother's condition.

Sharon had gotten better and they'd let her out of the hospital. Nothing had changed for her mother. She couldn't help but sob: what was going on? All she knew was that someone had attacked them and they needed to go so they could be safe. She didn't feel safe, didn't feel like she could ever be safe now. Where was her father? Was her mother going to be alright?

She didn't know how long she stayed there. After a while she wiped away her tears and crawled towards her suitcase. She flipped it open and pulled out a book. _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_ stared out at her. It was her family's copy, although she knew her father had a personal collection of Shakespeare's comedies. Sharon didn't understand everything in the book, but her parents had always read it out loud to each other.

Sharon looked around the room, hoping to find some private alcove. The closet seemed too small and too high. Sharon looked at the bed for a second before making up her mind. She grabbed the book and pulled herself beneath the bed.

It was dusty, but not too much. She opened the book and started reading, her finger following the lines. She'd often heard her parents say the words from this book, quoting lines as though it were a personal secret. Sharon had always wanted to read and understand so she could know the secret too. More tears fell, dropping onto the page as she tried to read.

"Doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love," she whispered.

There was a knock on the door. Sharon shrunk further back.

"Hey, my mom told me to tell you that dinner's going to be ready soon."

She didn't answer, just clutched the book closer. After a moment the door opened and an auburn-haired boy stepped in. He looked like Moira, but it took Sharon a moment to remember that his name was David. She'd seen him once or twice.

"Sharon?" he asked.

She still didn't answer. After a moment he frowned and got down on his knees. His eyes looked into hers.

"Oh," he said, "Hi."

"Hi," she whispered.

He continued to stare.

"Why are you under the bed?" he asked.

She didn't answer. David shrugged and laid on his stomach so he was level with her.

"Okay," he said.

He rested his head on his hands.

"Kurt does that sometimes," he said, "Goes under the bed. He says it's quiet."

"Kurt?" she asked.

"My little brother," he said, "He's the blue one with the tail."

"Right," Sharon said.

They stared at each other for a moment longer. David started to prop himself up.

"Should I tell my mom that you're not coming down?" he asked.

"Yes," Sharon said.

"Got it," David said.

He hesitated for a minute.

"You know Uncle Alex and Uncle Sean are working on this with your father," he said, "Everyone here's working on it too."

"I know," Sharon said.

"So you know that they're going to get the jerks who did this?"

She blinked at him.

"I know," she said.

"Good," David said, "But don't hide under the bed. It'd just make them feel happy."

"I'm not hiding," Sharon said, her voice hot.

"I get it," David said, "But they wouldn't. They'd think you were hiding."

For a moment she just looked at him. Then she pushed her book out and crawled out from under the bed. She stood up, feeling the dust from under the bed on her arms and overalls.

"I'm not hiding," she said.

"Okay," he said.

He gestured to the door.

"Do you still want dinner in here?" he asked.

Sharon tilted her head up.

"I can go down," she said.

David grinned.

"Good," he said, "Means I don't have to bring your food up."

"Maybe I should make you," Sharon said.

"Too late," David said.

He jerked his head towards the door.

"Now hurry up before it gets cold. Meatloaf is super gross when it's cold," he said.

"I've never had it," she said.

"Trust me," David said, "You really, really don't want it cold."

"Okay," Sharon said, "I'll trust you."


	14. Chapter 14

June 23, 1982

"Come on Sharon, keep up!" Kurt called.

Sharon ran behind him, her heart pounding as her bare feet thudded on the ground. The grass and the dirt were cool and, trying to catch Kurt and David, she could forget everything for a little bit.

Her hands were fisted around some of the wildflowers that grew outside the Institute. Her hands were smeared with dirt. When she got a moment she planned on tying them with a ribbon she had brought for the express purpose of tying them together. She wanted to give her mother something pretty for when she woke up.

David reached the tree first, followed by Kurt. He pointed upwards.

"It's stuck up there," he said.

Sharon took the ribbon out of her pocket and tied the wildflowers together. She peered up and looked into the branches where David and Kurt's kite had gotten caught. She put her flowers on the ground.

"That's up high," she said.

"I know, right?" David said, "I tried to get it down, but I fell after three branches."

"And Kurt couldn't get it?" Sharon asked, "Kurt's a good climber."

Usually Kurt was the one who went up and got things. She couldn't help but feel confused at hearing that he couldn't get a kite.

"The branches are awkward," he said.

His voice was flat. Sharon frowned, confused.

"That doesn't make any sense," she said.

David looked up at her, his expression uncomfortable. Kurt looked at his shoes, but she glimpsed a few band-aids on his hands. Sharon made a face and looked up at the branches. They were filled with small twigs. She could avoid them easily when she was reaching for a branch, but she had five thin fingers. Kurt had three thick ones.

Suddenly she realized that Kurt had tried to get the kite, but he'd cut his hands. She could imagine David demanding that he come down after that.

"And your parents?" she asked.

"We uh, we weren't s'posed to be flying the kite 'round here," Kurt mumbled.

"Ah hah," Sharon said.

She looked at the trunk and put her flowers on the ground. Sharon tilted her head and cracked her knuckles.

"You're in luck then," she said.

She launched herself at the lowest branch and pulled herself up onto it. Once she got her balance she reached for the next one, continuing to grab one branch after another. When she looked down she could see David and Kurt looking up at her.

Sharon grinned and tossed her hair proudly. It had started to grow back, and it was almost the length it had been before the explosion. When she looked in the mirror and wore a long-sleeved shirt she could pretend that nothing had changed at all. Then she would put her short-sleeved shirts on and see the bandages for her burns or have to smear the medicinal ointment on them. She tried never to look at the handprint

After a few minutes she reached the kite. The string was tangled around a few of the branches. She sighed and adjusted her position and began untangling it.

"Is everything okay?" David called.

"It's fine: just a little tangled," Sharon said.

"Well don't hurt yourself," David said, "We'd get super grounded if you did."

"You're really nice," Sharon said, rolling her eyes.

"We'd get grounded?" Kurt said.

She could almost hear David considering the question.

"No, probably just me," he said, "They like you more, so they'd say it was my fault. You're fine."

"They don't-" Kurt said.

"Mmmhm," David said.

His voice was so matter-of-fact that it made Sharon roll her eyes again.

"I'm glad I'm so important," she said.

"Are you done yet?" David asked.

"Give me a minute!" Sharon said.

She finished untangling the kite and gave it a sharp yank. The kite fell to the ground. She saw Kurt run and pick it up. Sharon gave him a thumbs up and she adjusted on the branch, taking a deep breath before she started down.

It was always harder coming down then it was going up. Sharon didn't know why it was, but she wasn't about to hesitate anymore. David would just ask why she was taking so long. She didn't feel in the mood to be teased for something she could do perfectly well.

She jumped off the last branch and hit the ground, her hands raised to the sky.

"Who's awesome?" she asked.

"You are!" Kurt said.

"You're okay," David said.

Sharon made a face and let her hands fall by her side.

"Your brother's a jerk Kurt," she said.

David shrugged just as Terry ran by. She was in sweat pants and a matching sweat shirt. She waved to them as she continued on, followed by two boys. Sharon didn't recognize the two boys, and they didn't wave. She looked over at David, who stiffened.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Those boys are jerks," David said.

He folded his arms.

"And they get to be X-men before I do," he said.

Sharon furrowed her brow.

"X-men?" she asked.

David looked at her, his expression incredulous. Even Kurt looked surprised.

"They're the people who fight the bad guys," David said, "It's how our fathers all know each other."

"Oh, that," Sharon said.

She wiped her dirty hands on the front of her shirt.

"I didn't know that was the name," she said.

"It is," Kurt said, "They're really cool. I like their plane."

"My dad built that," Sharon said.

"Wow!" Kurt said.

Sharon smiled, but she couldn't help but feel a little sick. She felt that way whenever she thought about her father. She got a phone call from him twice a week, but he wasn't telling her too much about when she could come back. Sharon hoped it was soon. Westchester was nice, but it wasn't home.

More than anything she wished that her mother would just wake up. Even if they hadn't found the people who had hurt them, things would all be better if her mother would wake up. She picked up the wildflowers she had picked for her, turning them over in her hands.

"Sharon?" David asked.

Sharon looked up and swung the flowers by her side.

"I was gonna go and give these to my mom," she said.

Although she didn't really want them to come with her, she knew she should invite them. It was only polite.

"Wanna come with?" she asked.

David paused for a minute, cocking his head.

"I've got to go put the kite back before my dad notices it's missing," David said, "And Kurt should come with me."

"Why?" Kurt said.

"You just should," David said, "That's all."

"Fine," Kurt said.

"Okay," Sharon said, "See you for dinner."

She swung her flowers and headed for the Institute. The moment where David had cocked his head had been unnerving. It had been like he was trying to figure something out. He did that a lot with her, since they didn't know each other very well.

No matter what, she was glad that David and Kurt hadn't come. Seeing her mother was private.

* * *

"Why do I hafta come?" Kurt asked.

"I told you: you just should," David said.

"Why?" Kurt asked.

David rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wished his brother wouldn't ask so many questions.

"She didn't want us to," David said.

He began to climb the stairs, Kurt trailing behind him.

"But she said-" Kurt said.

"She didn't mean it," David said, "It's her mom, and I don't think she wants us there. You know. It's a family thing."

He shrugged.

"I think," he said.

Kurt ran so he was walking directly next to him.

"Did you, you know?" he asked.

He tapped his temples with his hand. David had seen his father make the gesture often enough to know what Kurt meant.

"'cause you're not allowed," Kurt said.

"I know that," David snapped.

Kurt drew away, looking hurt. David couldn't help but sigh. He didn't like how much of his mutation he had to keep in. It gave him headaches and it felt like his whole head was full of wool sometimes.

However, Kurt didn't know that.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Okay," Kurt said.

"I'm not angry," David said.

Kurt grinned, his tail swishing.

"And no, I didn't," David said, "Sharon just looked funny about it."

"Alright," Kurt said.

Together they finished climbing the staircase and headed for David's room. On the way David saw Lorna by the telephone, Max by her side. At four years old he was growing tall. One of Lorna's hands rested on his shoulder, and Max looked up at her expectedly. She was so busy trying to control him that she didn't notice when David and Kurt came in.

"Your son wants to say hi," she said.

She lowered the phone. Max grabbed at it.

"Hi!" he shouted into the phone.

David grinned before he went into his room. He propped the kite up against his wall and headed out again. There were a few books in the library that he wanted to read before dinner, and he wanted to get Kurt started on _The Hobbit_ soon. It was too good of a book for his brother not to read.

They walked back out into the hallway and David headed for the stairs.

"Is this a secure line?" Lorna asked.

There was a pause. David had almost made it to the staircase when she spoke again.

"Good. So, you found them?" Lorna asked, her voice lowered.

David stopped. He could feel Kurt come up short behind him.

"And there's still a lack of evidence?" she asked.

Kurt tugged on his arm.

"David," he said.

"Shhh," David said.

"David, we shouldn't be listening," he said.

"Then go downstairs and I'll listen," David said.

He moved further down the hall so he could listen better.

"You're going in?" she asked, "When?"

She cradled the phone in the crook of her neck.

"Yes, I know things can't be immediate," Lorna said, "But you're just working with Sean when it comes to the authorities right? Does that mean the X-men can come?"

David hid behind his door. He could see Kurt staring at him with big eyes. David jerked his thumb towards the staircase and leaned in. He wasn't going to miss the rest no matter what his brother wanted.

"Alex, I wish you could figure something out," Lorna said.

Next to Lorna Max clung to his mother's leg and pulled. It was obvious he was getting bored. She made a gesture with her hand and shook her head at him.

"Alright, no X-men," she said, "And you already told the Professor? Alright."

David's eyes widened.

"Just be safe," Lorna said, "I love you."

She waited for another few seconds before hanging up the phone. David watched as she took Max back into his room. He took the opportunity to hurry towards the stairs where Kurt was waiting for him.

"You're gonna get in trouble," he said.

"If I get caught, yeah," David said, "Now come on: we have something to tell Sharon."

* * *

Sharon walked into the library. She saw that Kurt was looking at _The Hobbit_. David, however, wasn't doing anything. He jumped up when he saw her and grinned.

"I overheard Aunt Lorna and Uncle Alex talking," he said, "They're really close to finding the people who hurt your mom."

Hope rose within her.

"How close?" Sharon asked.

"Really close," David said.

He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in.

"But you didn't hear it from me, okay?" he asked, "I kind of have a reputation for eavesdropping, and I don't wanna get in trouble."

Sharon laughed and threw her arms around him. He was taller than her, so the gesture was a little awkward. She felt him take a step back.

"Thank you," she said, "This means a lot."

David patted her on the back. Sharon wanted to tell him more, try to make him understand just how much it meant to have such a good friend at Westchester. Words seemed inadequate though, so she just hugged him tighter.

"Don't mention it," David said.

* * *

_**A/N: **I've had a few questions about character's ages. Right now David is the oldest at 12, Sharon has just turned 9, Kurt is 8, and Max is 4._


	15. Chapter 15

July 4, 1982

"You ready for this?" Alex asked.

Sean nodded. He looked at the Friends of Humanity's Headquarters. Despite the late hour, several lights were still on and people were moving inside. He had counted ten on that he could see on the top floor, and he knew that there were more on the bottom floor.

Phil was leading a few agents on the ground floor to the headquarters. He'd volunteered himself and Alex for the top floor. It was where they surmised that their safe was, and their weapon storage. It was also the area they figured would be more heavily guarded, if they employed any guards, but he figured Alex wouldn't mind.

Hank had wanted to come along too, but his duties as a politician wouldn't allow it. He'd only been able to get away with defending Carly when the FOH had kidnapped her because his life, and that of his wife, was in danger. People liked bravery: they didn't like revenge.

Besides, he was holding down a firestorm at the home front. Several pro-mutant groups were up in arms. Hank had made several press conferences trying to soothe them, battling his own emotions in the process. The strain was showing. It was a difficult battle, and he was being forced to do it without the love, support, and knowledge of his wife, without his daughter there to come home to and remind him what he was fighting for.

Even so, there were still whispers of riots. If a riot did break out then it would play nicely into the FOH's agenda. They would have their dangerous mutants that they could hold up to incite fear. In time the original cause of the riot would be forgotten and the only thing that would be remembered was the danger that mutants posed to the population.

SHIELD had recognized the possibility of nationwide riots involving meta-humans, as they had so eloquently put it, which was why Sean had been sent in the first place. Instead of having to rely on the X-men's resources he had the backing and knowledge of a major government organization.

Even with all of the perks Sean hated bureaucracy sometimes though. It tended to include a great deal of red tape standing in their way. Sinister had provided the link, but they had needed additional evidence.

Sean and Phil had done several reenactments before they had been able to come with enough evidence to warrant a thorough searching of the FOH headquarters. They couldn't afford to be wrong: if they were it could incite a riot on its own.

Alex had waited impatiently. He wasn't used to waiting so long for permission for a mission. Sean knew that it was much more informal with the X-men: many of their missions were more reactionary. Other times Alex would have to draw up a proposal which he would go over with Charles. With few changes it usually ended up being the plan, unless there was something Charles could add or strike from it.

He'd wanted to do a personal raid the minute he delivered Carly and Sharon to the Institute. He'd suggested Sean come with him, but he'd said that he didn't need to, since he was a government agent now.

Sean'd had to talk him down from it. The situation was too sensitive for a mutant, even an unattached one, to invade FOH headquarters. He'd argued with him for hours, wishing that Charles was there. He'd considered phoning him, but thankfully Alex had caved.

Now that they had permission it was time to go in. Sean checked his watch. It had officially become July fourth a few minutes before, which was poetic in its own way. He would laugh if he didn't feel that what he was doing was too serious for that.

The watch struck fifteen and he made a gesture to Alex. Alex slid a crowbar beneath the window and pried it from its frame. With the window open the two moved in. Distantly Sean could hear the door break down in the main room downstairs.

They dropped in. Immediately several pairs of eyes looked up at them. Someone dropped a coffee cup.

"I'm Special Agent Cassidy from SHIELD," he said, fishing out his badge, "Our colleagues are currently on the first floor. And now we're going to have a quick look around, okay? Nobody make any sudden movements, or my partner here is going to have to restrain you."

There were several nods. Alex jerked his head towards Sean who headed towards the back room. There was a large vault there, larger than anything he figured any normal building should have. SHIELD had a few like that, but that was SHIELD. If a private organization had one then it generally meant that there was something they were trying to hide.

He walked up to it and attached what Phil lovingly called a 'lock pick.' Sean set the timer on it and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

"You all might want to cover your ears right now," he said, covering his own ears.

Several of the smarter workers jumped beneath their desk. Alex just folded his arms and gave Sean a level look.

"You're being rather methodical," he said.

"Comes with the territory," Sean shrugged.

He kept his hands over his ears as the miniature explosive went off in the next room. Sean gave him the thumbs up before he went back into the room, waving his hands to clear the air of the smoke.

The safe was open. Inside he saw several different filing cabinets, but his eyes were on the large crates in the middle of the vault. He took the crowbar he'd used for the window and opened one. He was unsurprised to see Sinister's familiar weaponry inside.

He walked out of the room and waved at Alex.

"Found them," he said.

Alex smiled grimly. Sean picked up his walkie talkie and turned it on.

"Agent Coulson, we found some rather unsavory items upstairs, but everything's secure," he said, "How's it going on the ground floor? Over."

"Secure. We have a few people who are arguing with us-" Phil started.

There was a splatter of gunfire. Alex walked over, his eyes narrowed.

"Agent Coulson, what was that? Over," Sean demanded.

"Shooters. We're trying to head them off, but they're headed upstairs. Over."

"Got it. Over," Sean said.

He clipped the walkie talkie back to his belt.

"Everyone, get down!" he said.

The workers who weren't beneath their desk crawled beneath them. Sean ran beside the door. He had a gun in his belt, but he hadn't used it in ages. He supposed that he might have to start: he'd already discussed that they were going to have to go in without their mutations.

Sean took the gun from his belt. He looked over at Alex, who cracked his knuckles.

"I was going to ask if you were ready, but it's a dumb question, isn't it?" Sean asked.

"Yep," Alex said.

The door burst open. Sean counted four before he let off his first shot. It caught the first one in the shoulder as another one took fire, the laser cutting through the air and into the ceiling. Some plaster fell down and Alex rolled to dodge it.

He got back to his feet and punched the nearest gunman. The gunman stumbled: Sean didn't envy him. He'd been on the receiving end of that punch during a few Danger Room training sessions, and that had been when they were young and Alex was holding back.

Sean let out another shot, shooting another gunman in the leg. Blood splattered into the air and he heard a few of the office workers scream. Another let out a laser and Sean shoved his face into the wall. He saw another gunman bring his weapon around, but Alex kicked him in the stomach, sending him backwards and down the stairs.

"Hold your fire!"

Sean looked around and saw that one of the gunman had yanked an office worker to their feet and was pointing their gun at him. Sean looked at Alex, who got up and wiped his lip.

"Tell your men to get out of this building right now," the gunman said.

"Or?" Alex asked.

He sounded bored, the tone he'd always taken when he encountered a hostage situation. It always threw them.

"I start shooting everyone in this damn room," he said.

Alex put his hands in his pockets and glanced at Sean. Sean put his hands up, his gun pointing to the ceiling.

"Now, I'm sure we can-" Sean said.

He didn't finish his sentence, instead curving his gun so it shot the gunman in the tendon to his arm that held the gun. The snapping made him drop the gun and Alex moved in, punching him in the face and sending him to the ground. He placed a foot on his chest and looked at the hostage.

"You okay?" he said.

"Yes," he spluttered.

"Hope this teaches you better than to work for terrorists," Alex said.

He looked back at Sean.

"Nice shooting," he said.

"Thank you," Sean said.

He unclipped his walkie talkie and pressed a button.

"Upper level is secure. Over," Sean said.

"Good to hear that," Phil said, "We're en route there now. Over."

Sean put his walkie talkie back on his belt and looked at Alex. His friend grinned at him, wiping some blood off his face.

"Happy Independence day," Sean said.

* * *

Kurt ran in front of the Institute, waving a red, white, and blue pinwheel. He loved the pinwheels that he got on the Fourth of July. The way they sparkled and moved was beautiful. It reminded him of the fireworks they saw at night.

The food was always really good too. They always had a cookout. Mr. Guthrie was really good with a grill. Terry was with him, although in the past he'd seen her father work at it to. She was in deep conversation with Mr. Guthrie before she turned something over.

Kurt loved the cookout. He always begged his mother to let him have a hamburger and a hotdog. David told him he just shouldn't ask: that way he could have as many as he wanted. He'd seen David get into trouble for it one year though, so he figured he'd better not.

The air was filled with the smoky smell of charbroiling meat. Kurt looked and saw Sharon sitting on the steps talking to his brother. David was pointing something out to her in her book. Kurt vaguely knew that it was something by Shakespeare. He didn't really like his works, but Sharon was trying really hard to understand it. He had no idea why.

David understood it though, so he was glad that someone could explain it to her who wasn't him. He wouldn't know where to begin. He waved at them as he ran past, still watching the pinwheel swirl its different colors.

Further up he saw Lorna leaning up against a tree and chatting to Scott and Jean. A few steps away from her Max sat on the ground, digging a hole with a stick. His brown hair was sticking up. He'd heard Lorna telling his mother that she couldn't get it to lie flat on his head.

Kurt grinned to himself and ran around the outside of the group. He made sure that Lorna was distracted before he snuck up behind Max. Kurt sucked in a big breath.

"Boo!" he shouted.

Max shot up into the air and scurried away until he reached his mother. He grabbed her leg, almost causing his mother to lose her balance. Kurt laughed.

"Kurt!"

He winced. His mother was walking up, shaking her head. She looked between Max and Kurt.

"Kurt, he's only four," she said.

"But he's funny," Kurt said, waving his pinwheel.

"Don't do it, okay? You scared him," his mother said.

She turned to Lorna.

"I'm sorry Lorna, and so is Kurt," she said.

She glanced at him.

"Aren't you?" she said.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled.

He sneaked a glance at Lorna. Her eyes were wide, but she wasn't looking at him. With one swift movement she grabbed Max and moved past them. His mother looked in her direction and Kurt followed her gaze.

Alex was walking towards them, looking exhausted. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder, but he dropped it when he saw Lorna and Max. He opened his arms just as Lorna reached him. They hugged and Max shrieked with laughter.

"Daddy!" he said.

"That's right," Alex said.

He looked up. Kurt could see that everyone was staring at him. Scott waved to him and Alex gave a thumbs up. Sharon had gotten up from the steps, her hands clasped around her book. David was close behind her, grinning. Kurt's father wheeled up, smiling.

"We're glad to have you back Alex," he said.

"Glad to be back," Alex said.

"And how did everything go?" his father asked.

Alex grinned.

"We got the sons of bitches," he said.

"Alex, there's children," Lorna said, "We've talked about this."

He waved her words off.

"The raid went well," he said, "And we've confiscated their cache of weapons. The Friends of Humanity is going to be declared an illegal organization by tomorrow."

He pulled Lorna closer.

"My part was done, so Sean said I could come back," he said.

"Is my dad coming?" Terry asked.

Alex shook his head.

"Sorry kiddo. He's got a mountain of paperwork," he said.

Terry's face fell.

"But he's going to be here in two days," Alex said.

Terry's face lit up and she smiled. Sharon moved forward a little, clutching her book closer to her.

"Does this mean I can go home soon?" she asked.

Alex smiled, his expression gentle.

"Sure does," he said.


	16. Chapter 16

July 15, 1982

"Can we have dessert yet?" Kurt asked.

"One moment," his mother said, "You haven't finished your corn. Even Max finished his corn."

Kurt looked over at Max, who Alex had just finished feeding. David watched in amusement as Kurt shoveled the corn into his mouth. His mother sighed.

"You're going to choke like that," she said.

Kurt grinned, showing the bits of corn stuck between his teeth. Sharon laughed and David gave his brother a thumbs up. His father just shook his head. David's mother rolled her eyes and cleared Kurt's plate.

"Maybe we should get him some floss," his father said.

"You're just encouraging him Charles," his mother said.

She just rolled her eyes again.

"I'll get dessert," Lorna said.

She left the room and headed towards the kitchen. David watched eagerly as she came back out with the cake. He could see that it was chocolate with raspberry filling. It was Sharon's favorite flavor, and he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

Personally he preferred yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Kurt just wanted as much chocolate in his cake as possible. Sharon smiled when she looked at the cake, although he saw her eyes flicker to the phone.

Her father had told her that, despite the raid on the FOH headquarters, it wasn't time for her to come home yet. Sharon was disappointed, but David was a little glad. She hadn't been there too long, and although he hoped everything would work out, she was fun to have around.

They hadn't made too much progress on Shakespeare though. He only understood the plays that his teacher had gone through, and there were a lot more in Sharon's book. He had never really been interested in Shakespeare, but Sharon had insisted. She'd said that her parents had taken her to a play once and it had been really funny. Personally he didn't get many of Shakespeare's jokes, but he decided to take her word on it.

Her father had promised to call that night, and it was getting late. David wondered why Hank wasn't calling, but he figured that he was in the middle of some big political thing. Maybe he was giving testimony. David had recently started learning about the legal system in one of his advanced classes. It all seemed complicated, but at the same time it was fascinating.

He tapped the side of his plate with his fork impatiently while everyone else got their slice. Finally everyone did and he took a bite. He wasn't sure how he felt about the raspberry in the cake, but the chocolate was good.

Across from him Kurt balanced his fork on his upper lip like a mustache. David laughed and pointed it out to Sharon. Kurt noticed that they were watching and used his tongue to maneuver the fork slightly. He slipped up and ended up getting chocolate frosting on his face, which only made them laugh harder.

Their mother saw and rubbed her head, although David could tell that she was smiling too. Their father put a hand over his mouth to stifle his own laughter while Max let his giggles run free. Kurt grinned and wiped his face with his napkin.

_If he's not careful he'll end up at the circus_, his mother thought.

David immediately shoved a big piece of cake into his mouth. It was a technique his father had used to help him keep concentrated. He said that it was something about trying to crowd his other senses into submission.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but it worked. He sighed. He didn't want to hear his mother's thoughts by accident. She'd been very understanding when he had in the past, but he didn't want to push it. Besides, he knew other people wouldn't be quite so understanding.

"Sharon," David's father said.

She looked up, wiping her lips with her napkin. David wondered where she'd learned to do that.

"Yes Uncle Charles?" she asked.

"We have something of a surprise for you tonight," he said.

She grinned and moved to the edge of her seat.

"What is it?" she asked, "Should I guess?"

"I'm not sure you'd be able to," he said, "Besides, there's really no point in holding out any longer."

His father put his hand to his temples. David peered closely as Sharon's eyes widened.

"Why, what is it?" she asked.

He smiled and gestured to the doors on the other side of the room. The door opened and Hank walked in. Sharon's mouth dropped open.

"Hello sweetheart," Hank said.

Sharon paused for a minute, and no one said anything. Suddenly she shoved away from the table and ran towards her father. He got down on his knees and she threw her arms around his neck.

"Dad!"

Hank smiled and held her close.

"I've missed you," he said.

"I've missed you too!" Sharon said.

David could see that she had started crying. He glanced at his father, who took his fingers away from his temples. When he looked back Sharon had released her hold on Hank slightly, her eyes still watery. Her father still had one hand on her back.

"We're going home tomorrow," he said.

David felt his heart sink slightly.

"We are?" Sharon asked.

"Yes," he said, "Your mother is coming with us: it's all been arranged."

Sharon hugged her father again. Hank looked over at David's father, who nodded again. Hank got to his feet and looked at the table.

"Is it too late to get some of that cake?" he asked.

Sharon laughed and tugged her father towards the table.

"Never!" she said.

* * *

The heart monitor seemed steady, and all of her vital signs seemed optimum. Hank didn't know if he could ask for more at the moment. Carly's face still seemed pale, and her eyes were still closed. It seemed as though Jean had done a perfect job setting up the equipment though. She had always been such an attentive student.

The rest of the room had some of Carly's personal effects, including family pictures. There were scattered bouquets of wild flowers around the room. Sharon had said that she had put them there when she had free time.

Sharon had since gone to bed, giving him a few minutes alone with his wife. It did him good to see both of them again. His heart had broken to send her and their daughter away, but he couldn't see any other possibility. Even now he knew that it wasn't really over, that the battle was never over. All that was going to happen was that it was going to be a little safer now.

The danger had already done its damage though. He picked up Carly's hand and kissed it.

"I'm not sure if you can hear me right now," he said, "But I've read that it's good for coma patients to be talked to. And, to be honest, I haven't learned how to live without talking to you yet."

He chuckled softly.

"I don't want to learn either," he said.

Hank set Carly's hand back down by her side, but continued to hold it.

"We're going back home tomorrow," he said.

He closed his eyes.

"It's alright," he said, "It's going to be safe. We'll be going back to Washington, and after that back here."

He opened his eyes again and smiled.

"You might think that it's a little silly," Hank said, "But I promised Sharon that she would be able to come back here for Christmas. I think she loves it here just as much as I did when I was younger."

He gripped his wife's hand tighter, careful of the IVs.

"Do you remember when she was first born?" he asked, "And we talked about her future, and I told you that she had more than most people had, because she had a place like this to come to? Do you remember what you said?"

He felt tears in his eyes, but he refused to cry.

"That we were going to fight to make the world brighter for her," he said, "And that's what I'm going to do. And when you wake up, we'll do it together."

He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, avoiding her bandage. The doctors told him that they didn't know if she would ever wake up. Even if she didn't though, he was always going to be there, waiting and hoping.

"Just like we always have my love," he said.

* * *

"David?"

David looked up from his book. Sharon walked into the library, swinging her arms by her side. She knew she was supposed to be asleep, but she figured if she got tired she would fall asleep in the car on the way to the airport or on the plane. She'd done it enough in the past.

"Yeah?" he asked

"I'm gonna be leaving really early tomorrow morning," she said, "And I wanted to say goodbye. I already found Terry, so that means I'm saying goodbye to you now."

"Oh, okay," David said.

"Is Kurt here?" Sharon asked.

"Nah, he's asleep already," David said.

Sharon frowned.

"Well, tell him I said goodbye," she said.

"I will," David said.

He shut his book.

"I'm happy you're going home," David said.

"I am too," Sharon said.

She looked at her slippered feet.

"Now if my mom would just wake up then everything would be back to normal," Sharon said.

She bit her lip. She knew that her father was with her mother now, and she was happy that he was there. Sharon wished that everything could be like it was before though, with her mother awake and telling her stories and not to get mud all over her clothes.

"She's gonna wake up you know," David said.

Sharon looked up. David's voice was clear and carried a tone of finality to it.

"I want to believe that," she said.

"Then believe that," David said, "It doesn't matter whether or not it's true. If you believe it then it's pretty much the same thing as it being true."

"No it isn't," Sharon said.

David paused. When he spoke his voice was heavy.

"If you believe something will happen, or that something is a certain way, then it's true to you," he said, "And then it doesn't matter what anyone else knows or thinks they know."

He made a face.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

Sharon scratched the back of one of her legs with the other. David seemed so confident, as though he'd though he'd been thinking on the subject for a long time.

"Do you believe anything that's not true?" she asked.

He paused, and then grinned.

"No," David said, "Because now that I believe it, it is true. Get it?"

"I'm trying," Sharon laughed.

She walked up and hugged him. He hugged her back before she let go.

"You have lots of fun while I'm gone," she said, "Dad says we can come back at Christmas."

"That'll be great," David said, "But I warn you: we wake up super early."

"Are you trying to surprise Santa Claus?" she asked.

David made a pained face, but he just shook his head.

"No, we just like to see our gifts early," he said.

"Well, that won't be a problem. I'm used to that," Sharon said.

She glanced back at the hallway.

"Speaking of, I need to get going," she said.

Sharon walked down the hallway and waved to him.

"I'll see you at Christmas!" she said.

"I'll see you then," David said.

He opened his book again, but Sharon could see that he was smiling. Despite how sad she'd been when she came to Westchester, Sharon was glad that she'd made friends while she was there. At least that was something.


	17. Chapter 17

July 30, 1982

"David, I'm scared."

David sighed and continued to hold his brother's hand. Kurt was way too old for this, and he was too old to be holding his hand.

"It's just a lobby," he said.

Kurt looked around and ducked his head down further.

"I don't know it," he said, "And dad's late."

"He's not," David said, "We wanted to come down early and surprise him, remember?"

Kurt nodded but hid his face. David glanced at the hotel lobby. For the first time they had been allowed to accompany their parents on one of their conferences, having finally been deemed old enough. He'd never been outside of Westchester's county. Going to New York City was big and exciting.

As he understood it, the trial of the people who had hurt Sharon and Sharon's mom was beginning. There was a lot of unrest because of it, both from mutant rights activists and people like the ones who had hurt Sharon and her mom. Her mom still hadn't woken up and, among other things, people were getting anxious.

It was why a group of 'cleverer,' as his father put it, mutant rights activists had gotten together and decided to have an open discussion about the issues. His father said it was a 'call for peace' and David's parents were expected at it. They had become staples at these things.

His mother was at a meeting at the convention center, and their father was coming to meet them to go for dinner. They'd been in the hotel room that afternoon watching cartoons on TV. Kurt hadn't been allowed to paint, because they couldn't afford to make a mess of the hotel room.

Kurt shrank back even further as a group of tourists walked in.

"It's okay," David said, "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"I don't like the way they're looking at me," Kurt mumbled.

David sighed. While he was frustrated at his brother's fears, he also knew there was a cause. People were giving him funny looks and pointing. This had never happened to Kurt before: not at Westchester. There had only been a few comments there, and Kurt had only ever heard one.

It felt a little like Jaime was calling Kurt a name again, only David couldn't punch everyone who was pointing at Kurt. There were too many of them. It wasn't so bad at the hotel: most of the people staying there were there for the same reason as his parents.

"It's okay," David said.

Kurt just curled up further. David wished that his father would hurry up. He was right about them being early, but he was bored. Next to him Kurt began to chew his lip. David hoped that wherever they were going to for dinner wouldn't have people who stared at Kurt.

He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. The hotel was certainly a fancy place. The ceilings seemed too high though. Westchester was fancy and the ceilings weren't nearly as tall as the ones he at the hotel.

The chandelier was particularly pretty. Even Kurt had liked it. He'd started to sketch it before the lobby filled up with people and he got scared. Kurt said that he liked the strange way that the different arms curled and twisted.

David was looking at it when the gunfire hit the ceiling. He looked forward and saw a man standing on the lobby's front desk, shooting into the air. People began screaming as more shots were fired.

For a moment he stared. Then David grabbed Kurt's hand and dragged him away.

_Kurt, we need to get out of here right now_, David thought.

Kurt winced. He still wasn't used to having someone send a thought. Their father had always said that they were too young for that. David didn't have much time to worry though: men were coming down the stairs with guns. He jerked Kurt away from the crowd and down a side hallway that led to the first floor rooms.

_Dad?_ he thought, casting around blindly, _Dad?_

He didn't hear anything. His father must have been out of his range. David was still fairly new at using his telepathy, and his radius was limited. A sick feeling settled in his stomach: they were alone.

As he fought nausea he saw more men coming down the hall, corralling some of the hotel's guests. David looked around him, feeling his heart thudding in his throat. Kurt was gripping his hand so tightly that David couldn't feel it any more.

To his right he saw a laundry chute. David dragged Kurt towards it and kicked it open.

_Trust me?_

Kurt nodded. David crawled in and pulled Kurt behind him. When the drop came it was immediate and frightening. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his brother's arm tighter as they fell for what seemed like an eternity.

They landed in a pile of laundry. The stink was almost overpowering, and the heat from the washers and dryers around them seemed like too much. He floundered in the pile of bed sheets and pillow cases as he clawed for the surface.

When he managed to get a semblance of balance he looked over the side of the laundry cart. It wasn't too big, but it was a good hiding place. He looked over at his brother, who was coughing but near the top of the pile. The light in the laundry room was dim and Kurt's frightened eyes were glowing.

David took his hand again. He wished that he knew exactly what to do, but he felt lost and scared. He had to try and reach his father again.

_We need to stay quiet right now_, he thought to Kurt, _I'm going to try and contact dad. _

Kurt nodded. David took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He cast out around him, feeling as though his hand was groping blindly for the light switch in the dark. It was frustrating and he wanted to cry. It shouldn't be so hard.

He felt a whisper at the back of his mind. David grabbed onto it and projected as loudly as he could:

_Dad! People are attacking the hotel!_

For a moment he didn't hear a response. Fear that his father hadn't heard him filled him. He swallowed, still groping in the darkness. Then the whisper seemed to strengthen, a tenuous thread made strong.

_David? What do you mean?_

David smiled, feeling like he could cry. He couldn't though. He was twelve, and that was something babies did. He grabbed onto memories of men coming into the hotel, the guns and the screams.

_David, I'm coming there right now. Are you and your brother safe?_

_We're in the laundry room_, David thought.

_Are you safe there?_ his father thought.

_I think so._

_Good. Stay there. If you have to leave, try to tell me. I will find you: I promise you that. _

_Dad, don't go,_ David thought, feeling panicked.

_David, if I don't go then I'm not going to be able to concentrate on stopping them all,_ his father thought, sounding pained, _When they're spread out it's difficult even when I'm concentrating. I'm sorry, but stay hidden with your brother. Everything will be alright._

David swallowed.

_Okay dad. _

_I love you both,_ his father thought, _I'll see you both in a few minutes._

His father's voice faded from his mind. David took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic from welling up inside him. He couldn't afford to let it go wild, but he could feel it thrumming inside him, creeping into his head and lacing it with pain.

From outside the door he heard footsteps. David shoved his brother back into the laundry pile. Kurt began to whimper and David clamped his hand over his mouth. David could hear the pounding of his heart moving in time with the footsteps as they moved down the hall. His hearbeat had moved from his throat into his head.

"We'll start at the far end of the hall, work our way up," someone said.

David swallowed again, trying to focus. He let his hand move away from his brother's mouth: Kurt seemed to have trouble breathing.

_We need to keep moving_, he thought.

"But-" Kurt said.

He clamped his hand over his brother's mouth again.

_Don't talk. Just think it to me, okay?_ David thought, _We can't have them hearing us._

David removed his hand and Kurt swallowed.

_I'm scared David_, he thought.

David hesitated. He wanted to tell his brother that he was scared too, that he had no idea what was going on or where their father or mother was. David wanted to say that he wanted to go home.

_Don't be such a baby_, David thought instead, _The X-men do this all the time._

His brother just swallowed again.

_I won't let them hurt you_, David thought.

Kurt seemed to take strength from that. David didn't know why. He didn't even know if he would be able to protect himself, let alone his brother. Nonetheless, he had pretended that other lies were true before. He could pretend he wasn't scared.

David jumped out of the clothes gurney, his feet a tangle when he landed. He narrowly avoided falling on his face. David reached up to help his brother out, but Kurt had already jumped out. Unlike David he landed easily on his feet and grabbed David's hand before he could say anything. It was hard not to see it as a good omen.

They moved towards the door and flattened themselves against the wall.

_Dad?_ he thought, reaching out as far as he dared, _We have to move. I...I think they're in the hall._

There was a pause and David was afraid that he hadn't heard.

_Be safe, both of you. If there are any emergencies, tell me at once. _

_We will_, David thought, feeling relieved that his father had heard.

He opened the door a crack and looked out. David could see a door open at the end of the hall, the light spilling out onto the hallway. At the other end of the hall he saw the door that led to the service staircase.

Carefully he pushed the door the rest of the way open. Kurt was breathing hard and the two of them moved into the hallway. As carefully as possible they began making their way to the staircase. David could still hear his heart pounding. It was hurting now, like the start of a headache, only deeper.

David headed towards the staircase, his hand still clasped tightly around brother's. It seemed to be the only thing grounding him as they moved up the stairs. The metal grating seemed loud and crude, like it was trying to give them away.

The footsteps from the hall below them started up again. David paused until the footsteps stopped again. He motioned to Kurt and the two of them continued to go up the stairs. David could see the green exit sign glowing, and he felt his heartbeat quiet but go deeper still. It was so close.

"Hey!"

David whipped around and saw a man in black body armor with a gun standing in the doorway that led to the stairs. He stared at him for a second before pulling Kurt in front of him and running up the stairs, shoving his brother up the stairs as he did so.

"Get back here!"

He didn't even look behind him as he shoved the door open. David heard a pinging sound that he was sure were the bullets bouncing off the doorframe. He slammed the door behind him, looking for a way to block it. When he didn't find one he continued running, keeping Kurt close beside him. He didn't know what else to do.

His heart back in his throat, David saw that they were in the back of the hotel. He ran around the side of it, hoping to get to the front. The back door slammed behind them and Kurt tried to look. David just kept shoving him forwards.

_Don't look back, just keep running!_

Kurt obeyed him as they rounded around the front of the building.

_Dad?_ he called wildly, _Dad?_

His head hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before. He could see crowds in front of them though, could see people running from the hotel. He saw a ring of the men on the ground, a few clutching their heads.

Ahead of them he saw his father as a few more men came out of the building. His father's eyes turned to them and he reached out.

_David, Kurt!_

David took another step forward and heard the pinging noise again. He grabbed Kurt and pulled him out of the way. His chin hit the dirt and he cried out in pain. Kurt cried out too. His tail flew through the air, cutting David's cheek with its spade.

When David pushed himself up he saw his brother's wrist was bent in a strange way.

"Neither of you freaks move, understand?"

David looked over his shoulder. The man from the doorway was standing there along with four other men. Their guns were all pointed at them and David could feel the pounding in his head screaming again.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the men in front of his father shooting at his father. They began to fall and David looked at the men in front of him. One man held his head and fell to the ground, but the other three still kept their guns trained on him.

"Looks like those skull plates from Sinister came in handy!" one of them laughed.

David took in a sharp breath. Kurt was crying next to him and the guns were coming around. He could hear his father shouting something, his voice desperate. He couldn't hear it over the pounding in his head. The men in front of him began to squeeze the trigger on his gun.

The pounding quieted and, somehow, David knew what to do. He reached out and saw the cracks between the plates in their mind. He could see where his father was psychically attacking them, making them weaker. His mind seemed to expand and jerk the men's minds out of them. He watched as they crumpled to the ground, their guns falling.

For a minute he began to laugh in relief. It was over. He didn't know what had happened, but it was over. He wasn't going to die. His brother wasn't going to die either. It was all going to be okay.

Then something happened, almost as though his fingers slipped.

_The hell-?_

_What did the freak do? _

_Bastard, filthy abomination!_

He fumbled for a moment, the screams echoing through his head, and then his world exploded into pain.


	18. Chapter 18

July 31, 1982

Kurt's mother looked forward, her face blank. Her breathing was even, and somehow that scared Kurt. She was too calm, too still. He clutched the front of her shirt with his good hand and her arms tightened around him. Kurt closed his eyes. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

He remembered his brother's strange laughter as the men crumpled around him. He'd been confused, but it had seemed alright. Then his brother's laughter had died and the screaming had started. His father had wheeled up and put his hand out to his brother. David had begun to thrash around, his hands pounding onto the ground, his eyes rolling wildly.

The rest was a blur. David had been whisked away to a hospital. The doctor said his brother was unconscious, but his mother told him that his father was doing something with him, that David was injured in his head somehow. The tone in her voice told him that it was serious.

Kurt knew that his father would fix it. His father could fix anything. Kurt still felt afraid though. It was noisy and strange in that hall. A lot of people had been injured in what had happened at the hotel and the doctors were all working very hard.

All of the other visitors were in waiting rooms in the ER, but his brother was out and they were in the normal ward. The doctors were still rushing around though. He couldn't see his brother, but somehow he couldn't get his brother's screaming out of his head.

Kurt buried his head. He wanted the noise to go away. If the noise went away then he could pretend that it was alright, that it would be alright, and that he with have his brother back again. It was impossible to pretend that with all of the noise.

His mother looked down at him. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

"What's say you and I get out of here?" she whispered.

He looked up at her.

"We can't leave David," he said.

His voice seemed tiny and pitiful. His mother shook her head.

"Of course we won't," she said, "We'll just go a few doors down. Your father will come and find us the minute he can tell us something. Does that sound alright?"

Kurt nodded. She hoisted him up and set his wobbling feet on the ground. Her fingers intertwined with his as they began walking. He looked at the brace on his sprained wrist and turned away. It was too easy to remember when his brother had pushed him to the ground, taking him out of the range of the guns.

His mother walked a little further down the hall. She leaned on a door and walked in. It was quiet in there and he looked around. The room was dimly lit and scarcely furnished. There were a few vases of flowers around the room.

Confused, he looked at the front of the room. A cross hung there, surrounded by candles. He'd been to church since he was little, although he wasn't sure if he understood everything that he heard there. It was like he was in a miniature, plainer one now.

His mother sat down with him, and Kurt moved over next to her. She held his head and stared straight at the cross.

"It's quieter in here, isn't it?" she murmured.

Kurt nodded.

"It's always quieter in here," she said.

She bowed her head.

"Kurt, I know that I'm not as religious as I could be, and I know that you're young," she said, "So I might not make much sense for the next few minutes."

Kurt looked up, feeling confused. He couldn't find his voice though.

"It's scary sometimes, when these things happen, when the people you love are threatened," she said, "And sometimes I'm angry, angry that these things happen to us, because it doesn't seem right or fair."

She clenched his shoulder tightly.

"But I have to believe in a higher plan," she said, "I have to believe that there's a reason for all the pain and suffering we feel. Because...if not..."

She swallowed.

"Never mind," she said, "But Kurt, I want you to know that your brother is in good hands right now. And I'm not just talking about your father. I'm talking about him too."

She nodded her head towards the cross. Kurt saw tears slip down her face.

"I have to believe that it's going to be alright," she said.

Kurt felt tears well up in his own eyes. He looked up at the cross, his shoulders shaking.

_Please,_ he thought, _please help my brother._

* * *

Charles sat next to his son, his hand on David's forehead. He wasn't sure if it helped, but it certainly made him feel better. He took a deep breath, readying himself for another plunge into David's rapidly decaying mind.

It was frightening how difficult it was for him to wade through his son's mind. There were half formed wisps of thoughts in his way like cobwebs. The other minds that his son had accidentally taken into his own were screaming and tearing through at an alarming rate.

David was fighting them as best as a twelve-year-old child could. His mind knew that there were foreign, hostile elements in it, and it wanted them out. He didn't have the finesse to distinguish between Charles and the other minds. It was one of the things that was making it so difficult for him to find his way through David's mind.

His heart ached for his son. He had just started using his powers, and he had already killed with them. Charles highly doubted that he'd known what he was doing. Instead he had just reached out to try to protect himself and his brother. He'd neutralized the original threat, but created one much deadlier.

Charles took another deep breath and reached out. He'd already secured two of the terrorists in their own cages, trying to keep his son separate. It felt like a failure. He had caged those minds, not destroyed them. All he could do was try to keep them away from his son's fragile mind.

He'd had to do something, even if it hadn't been the solution that he'd wanted. He knew that, if they could, the other minds would dominate his son's. If that happened then David could end up lost to them forever.

He searched for the last mind through the dangerous maze of David's mind. It was dark in there, and a combination of the energy expended, David's instinctive defenses, and the terrorists' minds, he felt like every step was agony. If he wasn't careful he could lose himself in there.

The noise was deafening. He could hear laughter, hear the final voice running and taunting him. Charles focused in on the voice, his mind already building the final cage to trap it in.

_What's wrong Xavier? Can't find me?_

Charles didn't answer. He could still hear the taunting voice. If it talked for long enough then he could find it. Already he was racing through his son's mind, his anger burning uncontrollably at the smug, gloating voice.

_You know, you spent so much of your time worrying about other people's freaks that you didn't stop to worry about your own!_

Gritting his teeth he reached out for the voice, slamming it in a cage. He heard it howl, but the voice was softer now. Charles could feel the decay in his son's mind stop. He sighed softly to himself. All he had to do now was repair the psychic damage. That was the easy part.

_I'm still here you know._

The voice came as a whisper, not quite as gloating anymore, but still smug. It was stronger than the others.' Charles stiffened and increased the cage's strength.

_Still here..._

Charles pulled out of his son's mind and into his own. He didn't have the time to fight with the voice anymore. He could feel worry welling up in him as he moved to repair his son's synapses. The voice was right about one thing: he was still there.

* * *

David woke up. For a minute all he saw were blurred shapes, and then they focused into the form of his father. His father looked exhausted, his eyes rimmed with red and what little hair he had left standing on end like he'd run his hands through it. He managed a smile when he saw David wake up.

"Dad?" he murmured, "Where am I? What...?"

He winced, pain racing through his head.

"What happened?" he asked, "Where's Kurt?"

"Your brother's fine," his father said, his voice pained, "As to what happened, well, that's a different question."

He reached out and took David's hand. David stared, feeling afraid.

"David, telepathy is difficult because it's so versatile," he said, "Everyone has a mind, so that means that telepathy gives us a way to affect everyone that we come across. And it's not common so...sometimes the results can be unpredictable."

David felt uncertainty creep in. He remembered the way that he had reached out, the way that the men had crumbled to the ground.

"Did I kill them?" he asked.

His voice seemed far away.

"Yes."

David bit his lip, feeling his heart thudding painfully against his chest. His father gripped his hand tighter.

"You were defending yourself and your brother," Charles said, his voice soft, "Sometimes in life there are no easy ways out of a situation. I'm...I'm more sorry than words can say that you had to learn this lesson so young."

David took a harsh breath. He hadn't meant to kill them, hadn't meant to hurt anyone really. He'd just wanted to stop them-

_But you killed us anyway, didn't you you little brat?_

David screamed and sat up. The voice was shocking and scary. It was like every look that Kurt had ever gotten combined into a single voice. He tried to scoot out of his bed, but his father grabbed his shoulders.

"David, what happened?" he asked.

"I...I heard this voice," David stammered.

His father breathed in sharply.

"Dad?" David asked, pleading.

A doctor raced down the hallway towards them. His father inclined his head and the doctor went away. When he was gone his father looked at him again.

"When you...when you were defending yourself," he said, "Something happened. Those men, you took something of their minds into your own."

David stared at his father, uncomprehending.

"I tried to force them out," his father said, "But they wouldn't go. They're too ingrained in you. If I had left it any longer...but David, I couldn't get rid of them. I could only cage them and push them to the furthest corner of your mind."

Panic started to rise in him.

"They're in my head?" he asked.

His father nodded. David took a deep, harsh breath.

"Make them go away," he said, "Please dad, please."

His father looked at him.

"I would if I could," he said, "David, you have to believe that. But...I can't."

David stared at his father. He'd said something similar earlier that year when he'd told him that he couldn't take away his telepathy. Now he couldn't save him from the voice he'd heard inside his head. Part of him wanted to demand to know just what his father could do. It seemed like his father certainly hadn't fixed anything, hadn't helped him.

Instead there was another question, one that David was desperate to have his father answer. It overrode everything else he was feeling.

"Are they...are they going to be there forever?" David asked.

He looked at his father, pleading for him to tell him that they wouldn't be, that they would go away. Instead his father bowed his head.

"Yes."

David looked at his father for a moment longer, and then sobbed.

* * *

_**A/N: **I had someone ask me how old Alex and Lorna are. Alex is 35 and Lorna is 31. _


	19. Chapter 19

November 12, 1982

Kurt stood in front of his brother's room, his hands clasped behind his back. He shifted from foot to foot, swallowing hard. He could feel his tail swishing too, the soft hiss of when it skimmed the top of the rug.

He reached out and knocked on the door. There was no answer and Kurt swallowed before knocking louder.

"What do you want?"

Kurt winced. His brother's voice was snappish and angry. It had never been like that before. Now Kurt barely saw him, and he just wanted to hear his brother sound like he'd used to.

He'd told his father what he was feeling, and his father had sighed before ruffling Kurt's hair.

"Your brother is experiencing things no one his age should have to," he'd said, "You're going to have to give him time."

He'd thought that he'd given him plenty of time now though. So he clenched his hands tighter and tilted his chin up.

"It's Kurt."

There was a pause.

"You can come in. I guess."

David's voice was so reluctant that Kurt had to suppress another wince. He opened the door and saw his brother sitting on his bed, hunched over a book. The lamp was on, but the overhead wasn't. His room was a mess and Kurt had to pick his way through everything to make his way to David.

"Mom's gonna be angry if she sees your room," he said.

"I don't give a damn," David said.

Kurt blinked. He'd never heard his brother swear, and not like that. It seemed alien, the strange, tired venom that laced his brother's voice. It just wasn't like him, and it scared Kurt.

David raised his head. Kurt could see that his face was drawn and tired, but more than anything it was angry.

"So, what do you want?" he asked.

Kurt shifted his feet.

"I made something for you," he said, "It was in art class today."

He pulled the piece of paper he'd painted on from his pocket and folded it out. It was the view from the library, looking over some of the trees. It wasn't the picture he'd done of the tree that David thought was ugly. His teacher seemed to think that it was ugly too, and Kurt wanted good grades.

Kurt wasn't sure why he didn't think it was ugly. He didn't feel up to explaining it though. If he wanted to draw or paint something, then he just did it. Giving everything a reason or trying to explain things complicated things.

He liked the picture he'd done though. He'd thought that he'd done a good job on it, and his teacher had told him that it was beautiful.

"It's my first A+ in any class," Kurt said.

He couldn't help but feel proud. Kurt wasn't smart like David. He'd always been aware of it and, although he tried not to mind, it was a little hard having his sibling get such good grades and get put in advanced classes. Kurt was average, although he did pretty well at being average.

Still, it would be nice to be good at something. Now it looked like there was something that he was good at. He hoped that his brother would approve. David had always told him that he was a great artist.

"I finished early," Kurt said, "So I got to leave early."

He put the picture on the bed. David's eyes softened when he saw it. He reached out and picked it up. He stared at it for a long time, not saying anything. Kurt shifted from foot to foot again. He found it hard to stay still when he was nervous.

"It is good," David said.

Kurt beamed. David put it back down again, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"Now scat, okay?" David asked, his voice weak.

Kurt nodded, knowing that he wasn't going to get much more from David. It was a miracle that he had even agreed to talk to him in the first place. Kurt wasn't usually one to settle, but it was a start. He had to comfort himself with that.

He left the room and walked down the hall, his tail swishing behind him. He felt a little better, but not by much. His brother was still shut in his room, and Kurt still didn't know what was going on. He didn't even have a plan about what to do next, if he should even do anything next. He'd have to ask his parents again to see if they knew.

"Boo!"

Kurt turned and saw Max behind him, holding his hands up and making a face. When Kurt didn't jump or scream Max's hands fell by his sides.

"Awww..." he said.

"You can't scare me," Kurt said, "I'm much better at this."

Max made a face before crossing his arms. Kurt looked around and frowned.

"Where're your parents?" he asked.

Max shrugged. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You'll worry them if you keep running around," he said.

"Not worry," Max said.

Kurt grabbed his shoulders and started steering him towards his room. Max struggled, but Kurt was four years older and more than capable of corralling him. Besides, Kurt always had great balance. It was more than he could say for Max's clumsy attempts to escape.

"Don't wanna!" Max said.

"You're gonna," Kurt said.

He opened the door to Max's room and pushed him in. Kurt sat at the foot of Max's bed while Max pouted.

"Booooring," Max said.

"Whatever," Kurt said, "You're gonna stay here until your parents come, okay?"

"No."

"Okay?"

"No."

"I'm not arguing with you!" Kurt said.

He thumped his tail on the ground. Max made a face.

"Fine," he said.

"Good," Kurt said.

He walked out of Max's room and continued down the hall towards his own room. He wanted to paint something, could recognize the familiar itch in his fingers to do so. It might give him an idea about what to do about David.

"I was thinking that David could use an outlet."

Kurt paused. He could clearly hear his father's voice. He looked at his room at the far side of the hallway and stood in the middle of the hall, feeling uncertain. His parents' door was slightly open, and he could hear their voices drifting through it.

He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop. David had gotten into a lot of trouble for it. However, he felt stuck. David's room was behind him, and his parents would notice if he went in front of their room. He twisted his hands, knowing he was going to get into trouble.

"What sort of outlet?" his mother asked.

"Well," his father said, "That's why Alex and Lorna are here."

There was a pause. Kurt put his hands to his ears, but he could still hear parts of the conversation coming through.

"I need the Danger Room for this," his father said, "And I thought that you two might be good supervisors."

"So...you want David to do some training?" Alex asked.

Kurt gave up on putting his hands in front of his ears. It wasn't going to help.

"Yes," his father said, "I thought that if he went through a few of the X-men's simulations-"

"No."

Kurt blinked at his mother's voice. It was sharper, angrier than he'd ever heard it. Everyone seemed angrier now.

"Moira-"

"No Charles," she said, "No."

He could hear a few pairs of feet shuffling.

"Maybe we should go," Alex said.

Kurt's mother ignored them and continued talking.

"Charles, our son is not going to become another soldier in this war," she snapped, "I'm not letting that happen."

"Love, I'm not saying-"

"You're just saying our son should be trained for battle," she said, "And I'm not naïve, I know that he's going to have to defend himself. But he's twelve Charles. What happened to the man who didn't want children to fight?"

He heard her take a breath.

"When Terry joined I held my tongue, because she wanted to join her father and I'm not her mother," she said, "But I'm not going to see a generation of children run blindly after their parents if can help it."

"Moira," Lorna said, her voice soft, "It won't be like that."

"Imagine if we were talking about Max," his mother said.

There was another pause.

"Charles, I don't want that future for our sons," she said, "I know things might never be safe, the events of this past year have proven that, but I want them to have a chance at safety. I want them to have a chance for normal-"

"They don't have a chance for normal."

Kurt's eyes widened. He put his hands back over his ears. He didn't want to hear what his father was saying, knew it would be better to go by David's room and risk annoying his brother, but he couldn't find the energy to move his feet. It was like they were glued to the floor.

"They only have a chance for a good life, not a normal one" his father said, "David will never be normal, may never have the control he once could have had. And I couldn't help him Moira. I couldn't help him!"

"Charles, you know that it wasn't your fault."

"I was right there," his father said, "Of course it's my fault. And Kurt..."

When his mother spoke again, her voice was dangerous.

"Don't you dare."

"One day we're going to have to tell him who his real parents are," his father said, "What do you think that's going to do?"

Kurt stared ahead of him, feeling his head empty. Then, all of his thoughts came back with a terrible clarity. What was his father talking about? What did he mean? Tears began to stream down his cheeks. Why would he say that?

His thoughts went to the books that David had insisted he read, stories of fantastical tales. He'd learned for the first time that people who raised children didn't have to be their parents. He felt his breath come in short pants. That wasn't true for him though. They were his parents, and David was his brother.

"Charles, stop it. We-"

"Are not the one who gave him his genes and, no matter how much it would be easier to pretend otherwise, that does mean something!"

He heard footsteps. The door opened all of the way and Alex and Lorna walked out, looking more than a little shocked and uneasy. Lorna was the first one to see Kurt. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened.

"Oh my God," she said.

Alex turned. Kurt could feel their stares, but his feet were still glued to the ground. Even his fingertips felt heavy. He couldn't run, could barely even feel the tears that were falling from his eyes to the floor.

"Charles, Moira!" Alex shouted.

His parents came out of the room. Kurt couldn't look at their faces, still willing his feet to take him away. They wouldn't move though. He looked anywhere but his parents, if he could even call them that. He didn't know what to do.

"Kurt."

His mother. At least he'd thought so.

"Kurt," she said, kneeling in front of him.

"You're not...not..." Kurt stammered.

A choked sob escaped him. His mother reached out for him, but Kurt didn't want her to touch him. He didn't want anyone to even look at him, didn't want to be where everything hurt. It was too much, and he didn't want to think about it. It must be true since they were all so worried. They weren't his parents. David wasn't his brother. They weren't his family.

Kurt sobbed again, wanting to be far away, beyond the reach of anyone. He didn't know what to think or feel, and only the urge to run away was concrete in his mind. Kurt could feel the need to leave consume him.

"Kurt-"

The air filled with dark smoke.


	20. Chapter 20

November 12, 1982

The voices were quiet more than they were noisy now. David couldn't help but hear them though. They were jarring and scary whenever they happened. He would be in his classroom doing his work, and then he'd hear a nasty voice and have a headache briefly, but painfully, flare up. It would be enough for him to lose concentration, to drop whatever it was that he was holding.

It always seemed to happen when he was amongst a crowd of mutants. He'd begged his parents to let him stop going to his classes, at least for a bit. David was grateful, despite the simmering, unnamed resentment he couldn't help feel towards his father. At least it was all quiet now.

_David._

David put his pillow over his head. He wished his father would just leave him alone. It had just gotten quiet. Why wouldn't he leave him alone?

_Go away dad. _

_David, this is an emergency. _

_I don't care_, David thought.

_David, we can't find Kurt._

David sat up, flinging his pillow away.

_What happened?_ he asked.

_He...he overheard a disagreement between myself and your mother_, his father thought, _He...he wasn't supposed to hear it._

There was an undercurrent to his father's thought that David didn't like. Somehow he knew that it was worse than Kurt just walking in on their parents fighting. He grabbed his ankles and leaned forward. His eyes narrowed.

_What about?_ he asked.

There was a pause. David felt his heart ache and anger flare up.

_David, you need to come down to the study. This is something your mother and I should tell you in person-_

_Kurt found out he was adopted, didn't he_? David thought angrily.

He could feel the ripples of his father's shock from the other end of the house.

_How-?_

_I was there when Sharon and Max were born, as well as the night Kurt came_, David thought, _I figured it out. I just didn't want to say anything because..._

Because he hadn't wanted to know it. He'd never wanted to find out for sure that his funny, devoted little brother wasn't related to him. He didn't want to know that they didn't share the same parents. David had locked the information inside him. It was knowledge that he refused to know.

He didn't want to tell his father that though. He'd let Kurt find out, Kurt who wasn't prepared to know. He was only eight, and he was sensitive. David could only imagine the way that Kurt had felt when his world crumbled beneath his feet. He'd always firmly believed that he was their son. Now he knew otherwise.

His father had said that he'd been arguing with his mother and that was how he'd found out, but somehow David knew that it was his father's fault. His mother would never say anything that would let Kurt know. She loved him.

_David, if we'd known you'd known-_

_You should've known. Just how dumb do you think I am?_ David thought.

It was a vindictive answer, and one that he let his father hear without thinking about it. His father didn't answer. He could feel sadness from his father, but David refused to take it back. He got out of bed and ran over the trash in his room.

_Forget it. Which way did he go?_

_David, we don't know. He...he teleported._

David winced and paused by the door. Kurt had teleported? It was a surprise, but he'd think about it later. He put a hand to his forehead, trying to think of where Kurt could go. Would he try to run away? He doubted it. He loved his family and he loved Westchester. Kurt definitely wouldn't leave, at least not without saying goodbye to David.

He would probably go somewhere private, somewhere that few people knew about. He'd need to think, or at least get his tears out. David nodded his head to himself.

_It's okay. I know where he's gone. I'll clean up your mess,_ David thought.

There was another pause. When his father's voice came it was gentle.

_David, I know you're angry, and you have every right to be,_ he thought, _But your mother and I are very worried about Kurt. Please, let us know when you find him._

This time David was able to bite back an angry thought. He took a deep breath. He was so tired of being angry all the time.

_Fine_, he thought.

He opened the door. It was so bright outside that it hurt his eyes. He took another deep breath and ran down the hallway. It was the first time he'd run in what felt like forever. It was liberating. He wished he could run more. It took his mind off things.

David hurried down to the Blackbird's hanger. All of the lights were off. He couldn't turn any of them on. Kurt would just see him if he did. His brother was hurt, then he might not want to talk. Still, he had to talk to someone, and that someone might as well be David. He knew him the best.

He crept over to the small alcove that he had made into their hideout. David saw a light switch a few feet away from it. He'd need the light. It had been difficult to get across the hanger without any light, and he'd need to see his brother's expression when they talked. He didn't have many tools with him, but Kurt had a terrible poker face. David could use that.

David switched on the light and moved behind the curtain in one swift motion. It cast dim light into the alcove. Kurt looked up from his crouched position, his eyes filled with tears. He stifled a sob and moved away as David came closer.

"It's okay," he said, "I know what happened."

"It's not okay," Kurt said, sniffling.

His eyes suddenly glimmered with hope.

"Unless they were joking," he said, "Doing a mean joke."

David's heart broke. He swallowed and sat down next to Kurt.

"No, they weren't joking," he said.

His brother bowed his head again, a new wave of tears coming to his eyes. David put his arm around his brother's shoulder. Kurt made a gesture to shake it off, but David kept his arm where it was.

He let his brother cry for a little longer. He had no idea how long Kurt had been crying for, but however long it had been wasn't long enough. There were still fresh waves of pain rolling out of his eyes. David stifled his own tears and held Kurt closer.

David didn't know how much time had passed by the time Kurt's tears became small sniffles.

"What do you want to do?" David asked.

"I...I have to leave," Kurt said.

"Don't be stupid," David said, "You don't have to go anywhere."

Kurt sniffled again.

"But...but this place...I'm not-"

"You've been here for eight years," David said, "I don't think they'd mind a few more years."

Kurt looked at him, his eyes shining in the dim light.

"Did you know?" he asked, his voice pitiful.

David wanted to tell him that he hadn't, but there was no point. His brother had already been hurt enough by white lies. David supposed his parents had planned on telling him the truth one day. It was too early for Kurt to understand though.

_Look, even Xavier's own freaks aren't his freaks._

David smashed the thought away with as much force as he could muster. He looked over at Kurt and sighed again.

"Yeah," he said.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kurt cried.

He tightened his grip on his brother's shoulder, frightened that he was going to run away. When he was satisfied that he wasn't he gave him the answer that he had come to years ago.

"Because it doesn't mean anything," David said.

"Yes it does," Kurt said, "They're not my parents, and you're not my brother."

David grabbed Kurt and turned him so he was facing him. Kurt's eyes widened and David gritted his teeth.

"Don't you ever say that," David said, "Ever. You're my brother, do you understand?"

"But you're not," Kurt sobbed.

"But I am!" David said, "We've played together, read together, gone trick-or-treating and made messes together. We've been through so damn much together and that's what makes us brothers, okay? We're brothers!"

Kurt turned away, his eyes looking at the curtain that masked the entrance to the alcove.

"I don't even know who my parents are," he said.

"I do," David said.

Kurt looked at him again, his mouth opening slightly.

"Their names are Charles and Moira Xavier," David said, "Your brother's name is David Xavier, and you're Kurt Xavier."

"They...they're not...I want them...I want you all to be..." Kurt tried.

"They raised you, and that makes them your parents. We grew up together, and that makes you my brother," David said, his voice pleading, "And that makes us family. It all makes sense. Don't forget it, okay?"

Kurt's eyes began to glisten again.

"But-"

"But what?" David asked.

His brother looked at the ground.

"We're not," he said, "I'm adopted. We don't share the same blood."

David could feel his frustration mounting. He knew he had no right to be frustrated, but it was better than acknowledging the other things he was feeling.

"Blood?" David asked, his voice scornful, "Is that all you're concerned about?"

Kurt didn't answer. David snorted.

"I can fix that," he said.

His brother looked at him again. David looked around the alcove for tools. He felt like he was going mad, like something strange and manic had gripped him and was pulling him around. Everything was old, old bottles of oil and wax for the Blackbird. There were a few tools, but nothing he could use without risking giving him or his brother tetanus.

Kurt sniffled again, his tail twitching behind him. Inspiration struck David, and he grabbed his brother's tail. Kurt started, but didn't say anything. David tested the spade. It was still as sharp as when it had cut his cheek. It would work. He'd learned about things like this in books. He hoped that it would be enough for Kurt.

He grabbed Kurt's hand.

"Trust me?" he asked.

Kurt nodded, his eyes still wide.

"Good, 'cause this is gonna hurt," David said.

Kurt blinked just as David used the spade of Kurt's tail to cut open his hand. Kurt whimpered and David turned his own hand upside down. He used the spade to cut into his hand too, the same kind of cut on the hand opposite of the one that he had cut Kurt on. It hurt and David winced at the feeling.

As soon as it started to bleed he grabbed Kurt's bleeding hand, holding it tightly to his.

"We're gonna be blood brothers after this, okay?" David said, "You have my blood, and I have yours. And I have mom and dad's blood in me. So this means that you have our parents' blood too now. We all share blood. Understand?"

Kurt's eyes welled with tears and he nodded. David's own eyes were blurring.

"Is that good enough?" David asked.

"Yes," Kurt managed.

"So don't cry, okay?" he asked.

Kurt nodded again, but David could see the tears coming out of his brother's eyes.

"Dammit Kurt, don't cry," David said.

He grabbed his brother with his good hand, and hugged him. Kurt sobbed noisily into David's shoulder and David let his own tears flow freely.

"It's gonna be okay," he said, "It's gonna be okay."


	21. Chapter 21

November 12, 1982

Kurt sat in front of his parents, looking down at the sofa. David was sitting next to him. Charles could see that their hands were firmly clasped together. He had vaguely seen the glimmer of blood there, but it didn't seem serious.

There were more important things to discuss. Moira was sitting next to him, her shoulders rigid and her face drawn. The minute Kurt had disappeared she had started crying. Her son was missing and was no doubt hurt and confused by what he'd heard.

She had thrown her energy into finding them, nearly crying again when she saw David leading Kurt up to Charles's office. Since discovering that Kurt was alright she hadn't said much to Charles. It was probably taking her everything she had not to lay the blame for the situation at his feet. He knew she thought it was his fault, and it was, but it meant everything that she hadn't actually said it.

Then there were his sons. David was looking at him with angry defiance. Unlike Moira, he'd spoken his mind clearly and angrily. He was angry on his brother's behalf, angry at what he must see as a betrayal. His eyes stared in clear judgment, a look that was so childish but also so adult that it left Charles feeling uneasy.

David didn't understand why things had happened that way, and Charles didn't blame him. Charles wondered if it came with being young, the idea that there was some sort of fairness in the world, some definite order of right and wrong that must never be crossed.

Kurt wouldn't meet his eyes, just continued to look at the sofa. His hand shifted in David's as he averted his golden eyes. It was obvious that he didn't want to be there. He probably wanted it to be an hour or two earlier, before he'd ever had to hear that he wasn't his parents' son.

Charles sought desperately for something to say, knowing that he would have to be the one to start. He was the one who had let Kurt know that he was adopted. He was the one who had to make it right. It was up to him, and he felt afraid that he would destroy everything.

He remembered his old fears of inadequacy that had started the day his mother began ignoring him. Those fears had been aggravated when Erik and Raven had left and spiked when he'd first seen David. He remembered how everyone had left him that he'd cared about for so long, fought so hard for.

The only one who had stayed was Moira, and she had given him a son. Two sons since she had accepted Kurt, refusing to care that Raven was his biological mother. Other women might have flinched from such a responsibility, especially when their own marriage was just beginning to recover from his own blunders. Not her.

He looked over at her. Her eyes were fixed on him, as though she knew what he was thinking. Moira's face was set though, just as it had been as she'd always told him that there was a reason why she had tied her life to his, trusted him with her future, as well as the future of their children. He drew as much strength from it as he could. He had promised her that he would do better, and he needed to remember that promise eight years later.

Finally he cleared his throat.

"Kurt?" he asked.

Kurt nodded, but still didn't look up.

"Your mother and I...we'd always planned to tell you what you heard today," Charles said, trying to be as delicate as he could, "Just not for several years yet. And...I swear that we never meant for you to find out like you did. I'm so sorry."

Kurt didn't say anything. He started to pick absently at the fabric of the sofa. Charles sought for something else he could say, something that would make things better for Kurt. He wondered what he would want someone to say if he were in his position.

"Do you love me?"

Charles blinked. Kurt's voice had come out as no more than a whisper, but it had cut through him.

"Kurt..." Charles said.

He wheeled himself forward until he was close enough to touch him. He put his hand on Kurt's shoulder. Moira stood next to him, kneeling so she was level with Kurt. He still refused to look at either of them.

"Of course we love you," Moira whispered.

"More than anything," Charles said, "I never meant for this to happen."

Kurt still didn't look up. David was still looking at Charles, his childish face contorted into a mixture of a glare and a pout. Did David think that he was failing? Charles certainly felt like he was failing. Kurt needed him and all he could do was repeat an apology that wasn't nearly adequate.

Charles shook off his older son's scrutiny and focused his attention on Kurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kurt asked.

Charles glanced at Moira.

"When we took you in, all we wanted to do was keep you safe," he said, "You were so young. As I said, we planned on telling you, but only when we felt you were ready."

He swallowed.

"You see...the woman who gave birth to you..." he said.

It hurt to refer to his sister in such a clinically detached manner, but he wasn't going to refer to Raven as Kurt's mother. Not in front of Moira. He already knew how she felt about the subject.

"The woman who gave birth to you-" Charles tried again.

"Do I...?"

Charles stopped as Kurt squirmed. His tail flopped on the sofa a few times.

"Do I hafta hear about her?" Kurt said.

Charles stared at him. Kurt squirmed again.

"She left me," he said, "All I...why do you...was there a good reason? Why she did it?"

Charles swallowed. He had thought long and hard about why Raven might have abandoned her son. He had never gotten an answer that satisfied him as to why she would unceremoniously dump her child on his doorstep.

"We don't know why," Moira said.

Her voice was soft, but cautious. Charles swallowed again. Kurt looked like he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head.

"I don't wanna hear about her," he said, "I don't."

He raised his golden eyes, Raven's eyes, to Charles.

"Do I hafta?" he asked.

Charles felt his throat swell. He wanted to tell Kurt about Raven, about his birth mother. Shouldn't he know? He was young, but he already knew he was adopted. Surely he could know about the circumstances of his adoption. Putting it off would only make things more painful in the long run.

He opened his mouth to tell Kurt that he should know, but something stopped him. Did he want to tell Kurt because he thought he should know, or was he desperate for some sort of connection to the sister that he had lost? Did he just want to connect himself to his sister again?

Doubt suddenly seized him. Which was it? One was laudable, but the other was too selfish for words. He shut his mouth again, trying to tell himself that he wanted Kurt to know because he should know, but he didn't know the truth himself.

Although he didn't know for certain, he realized that it would be a bad idea. Kurt had already been hurt that day and been forced to learn things that he didn't want to know. Why should Charles force more unwanted knowledge on him? The only thing that it would do would be to hurt him, and Charles had already done enough of that for a lifetime.

"No," Charles said, "No, you don't."

He clasped Kurt's hands.

"But if you ever do want to know, we will tell you," he said.

Kurt breathed in.

"I don't wanna," he said, "I'm..."

He looked over at Moira.

"You're my mom," he said.

Charles watched as Moira's eyes filled with tears. Kurt turned to him next, his lower lip trembling.

"And you're my dad," he said.

Charles choked inside. Kurt's voice was so pleading.

"And I'm your son," he said, "Right?"

Charles felt his heart break. He reached out and pulled Kurt into his arms. He pulled David there too, the two of them still clenching their hands tightly together. Moira was immediately at his side, one of her arms around David and Kurt and the other lightly touching his shoulder.

"You're our son," Moira said.

Her words pounded in Charles's head. He thought of Raven as a little girl, her timidity that gave way to brash boldness. Fond memories of their shared childhood together trickled in, two strange people awash in a world that wouldn't accept them. There was the journey from Westchester to England, and their ultimate parting.

The boy in his arms was Raven's son. He supposed that Azazel was the father. The likelihood of him not being his father, with Kurt's features and newfound mutation, was slim. They were the ones who had given him genes, and Raven was the one who had carried him to term and given birth to him.

However, she was not the one who had raised him. She had left him on their doorstep with only a name. She had never tried to meet him, and Charles knew that he would have let her if she'd asked, even if it had hurt Moira. He could be foolish that way, his beliefs about family and the right thing often leading to pain.

Raven hadn't been Kurt's mother. Moira had been the one to rock Kurt to sleep, to pick his baby clothes and watch him through his teething stage. She'd been the one to get him to eat his vegetables and lead him through Westchester's gardens, taught him how to play games with the others. She was his mother in a way that Raven had never cared to be.

By that same token Azazel hadn't been Kurt's father. Charles was the one who read him bedtime stories and taught him to read. He'd explained to him about his mutation, watched him finger paint and shyly observe the world around him. Azazel had been dead before Kurt had been born, or at least Charles supposed so. Charles had been Kurt's father in a way that Azazel couldn't be.

Raven was not coming back for Kurt. He'd known that for years, but it was strange to accept that. What little there was left of Raven in Mystique was most likely dead. While he knew that he would never truly believe that his sister was gone, most of her probably was. She wasn't coming back for the child that she had birthed, and she had refused to be Kurt's mother.

She wasn't really his sister anymore. While he still loved her, he had to accept that. She had chosen a path that he couldn't follow, wouldn't follow. Kurt, with his open heart and kind ways, wasn't like her. He was his own person. He didn't have a familial resemblance to her because she wasn't his family.

If Raven was gone, it meant that she wasn't Kurt's mother. Kurt wasn't his nephew. Kurt was his son. It had taken him eight years to truly know that, and he knew that it shouldn't have taken that long. Moira had figured it out much faster. Then again, Moira had a knack for realizing the obvious before him.

He held his sons closer, tears dripping from his eyes.

"Yes Kurt," he said, "You will always be our son."


	22. Chapter 22

November 13, 1982

It was late the next morning by the time Lorna saw David and Kurt leave Charles's office. Lorna hadn't tried to be nosy, but she would never forget the look on Kurt's face when she'd seen him in the hall. He had the look of someone who had just found out that nothing was true, that everything was a lie.

So she had gone down the stairs and hidden quietly behind the wall. Alex had joined her after a few minutes. Neither of them had said anything to each other as they saw Kurt and David go into Charles's office, and neither had tried to hear what was said. They just had to know.

She was glad to see that their parents were close with them when they left. They all looked as though they had cried, but they didn't look as though they were about to break. David was looking at his father strangely, but Kurt seemed content to be between his mother and father.

She sighed softly to herself even as she felt Alex's hand on her shoulder.

"Come on," he said, "Let's go to bed."

She nodded and headed back up the stairs. Her own mind was whirring away though. Standing in the shadows in silence had given her plenty of time to think, and she knew she had to say something before she went to sleep that night. Alex would take some convincing, and in light of what had just happened, now was probably her best chance.

They walked into their room. She peeked into Max's room quickly to make sure that he was sound asleep. She saw his chubby face peeking above the blankets and he snored softly. Lorna crept inside and kissed him gently on the forehead before leaving. She closed the door as quietly as possible.

"I don't like the way David was looking at Charles when they left," Alex said, getting into bed, "Maybe I'm reading into it too much...but...I dunno."

He waved his hand.

"It's been a tough year for that kid," he said, "Him and his brother. For everyone really."

Lorna nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She stayed by the wall and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alex sit up in bed.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She swallowed the lump and turned to him.

"I think we should leave," she said.

He stared at her.

"What?" he asked.

"The Institute," she said, "I think we should leave. Move out. Get new jobs."

Her husband looked at her as though as though she had been possessed by aliens.

"Lorna, let me get this straight," he said, "You're saying we should leave the Institute, our friends, the X-men-"

"You've been saying for years that you were going to hand over the X-men's field leadership to Scott," she said, "Has he somehow become less trustworthy in the past few months?"

"Of course not," Alex said, "But that was going to be for when I retired-"

"And when were you planning on doing that?" Lorna said, "When we're one hundred? When Max is old enough to be an X-man?"

She felt the words pouring out of her, fears that had had come to the surface when Moira had told Charles that she didn't want her children fighting with the X-men. It had been buried beneath the rush to repair the damage done to Kurt, but Lorna couldn't forget it.

It simply clicked into her head. There were other factors at work, but she suddenly couldn't stomach the idea of watching Max grow up believing that joining the X-men was his only choice. She had grown up believing that the Brotherhood was her only choice, and that hadn't led anywhere good.

Alex still stared at her. She crossed her arms.

"They don't need us so much anymore," she said, "Not now that the Brotherhood's activity isn't what it was. They have Terry, Jaime, and John right now. Add that to Scott, Ororo, and Jean, and they can handle themselves."

"A decrease in activity?" Alex said, "You can say that, after what happened to Hank?"

Lorna breathed in. She knew that Carly's coma and Sharon's injuries were a sore spot for Alex, a man who was used to being able to protect everyone.

"That was the Friends of Humanity," Lorna said, "And it was horrible, and it shouldn't have happened. But it did Alex, and now..."

She rubbed her head.

"I'm trying to think of the future," she said.

"And I'm trying to think of the present," Alex said, "We can't just leave."

"Hank did," Lorna said.

Alex got up.

"Yeah, Hank did," Alex said, "And so did Warren. I don't blame people for leaving Lorna. Sometimes it's just their time. But...it's not our time."

"And when will it be our time Alex?" Lorna said.

She clenched her fists.

"I don't want to die doing this job," she said.

"And you're not," Alex said.

"That's how this road ends though, don't you see?" she asked, grabbing his arm, "That's all this road ever leads to."

"Lorna, we're soldiers right now," he said, "And we're in a war that's bigger than us, a war to prevent war if that makes any sense."

She put her other hand on his cheek.

"I understand that," she said, "I just...Alex, soldiers get to go home once the war's over. But I don't think our war is ever going to be over. I think that it's time to move on and let the next generation take over."

He slumped slightly, looking around the room. Lorna couldn't help but follow his eyes. It had been his room when he had first moved into Westchester. All of the bedrooms had been big enough for two and he had stayed in his since he was fifteen. It had been Spartan and bare when she'd first come in, furnished just like a man whose life was thrown into his job. There had only been a few pictures on the wall, pictures of his friends and team, and a few of his brother.

She had moved into it as soon as she had officially become part of the X-men. Officially she had lived down the hall for the few brief months before their marriage. However, Lorna had come into his room each night and slept beside him, his arms wrapped around her. He hadn't been able to ward off her nightmares, but he had made it better once she'd woken up.

Then they had gotten married and his room had changed, become more habitable. Max had been the final piece of the puzzle to making it a home. Now his room looked lived in, spoke of years of habitation and a good life.

She looked over at him, saw the conflict in his eyes. Although she had a good idea, Lorna wondered exactly what it was that he was thinking.

* * *

He'd first come to Westchester when he was fifteen. He'd spent over half his life living in that room, using his powers to fight for his beliefs and training others to do the same. Westchester had housed his friends and family, and when he'd married Lorna it had housed his wife and, in time, his son.

Alex had thought about leaving, but never seriously. He had a degree in geology, and he enjoyed it, but he wasn't sure how he was going to live his life outside of the Institute. Did he even want to be a geologist any more? He didn't want to stop fighting for his kind. He'd poured too much of his life into it.

Then again, hadn't Lorna poured her entire life into it as well? She'd thought that she was fighting for the same thing that he was when she was in the Brotherhood after all. For her to say this something like this meant a lot.

He didn't want to stop fighting though. Fighting was part of who he was, who they both were. Could people like them just retire? Charles was never going to retire: Alex knew that much. He couldn't stop fighting for the cause that he had championed. Alex had given himself over to Charles's dream when he was very young. Could he just leave it now?

Understanding came into her eyes and her expression softened.

"I don't want to stop fighting for mutantkind," she said, "I just...there are other ways of doing it."

"Like what?" Alex said, his voice weak.

He meant it. All he'd ever known about fighting for their cause was with his fists. Hank's way was good too, they needed people like that, but it wasn't for him. He didn't have the intelligence or the political awareness to make something like that work.

"There are people outside of Westchester who could benefit from what we can do," Lorna said, "We're not just soldiers Alex."

She wrapped her arms around him.

"You taught me that I was more than that," she said, "Did you ever stop to think that there's more to you as well?"

He swallowed.

"I just..." he said.

Lorna inclined her head towards Max's bedroom.

"If our son is a mutant," she said, "I don't want him to grow up and think that the only path for him in life is the X-men."

"David and Kurt don't think that," Alex said.

"I don't know what they think," Lorna said, "But their father isn't the field leader. Terry's already joined up with the X-men."

"Her father supported her," Alex said, his voice defensive.

She nodded.

"I know, but Terry also has history," Lorna said, "I understand that she wants to defend herself after what happened when she was younger. I understand that she wants to be like her father. There are probably other reasons, but those are important ones."

"And is it so bad if she wants to be like Sean? Is it so bad if Max wants to be like me?" Alex snapped.

Lorna sighed, the sound harsh.

"Or like me?" Lorna said, "Let's face it, we're both the same. And that's why we have to...I just don't want him to think this is his only choice. David and Kurt have both parents in support roles as examples. It's easier for them to see that there are different sides to life. And maybe if we move Max will become an X-man anyways, or enter whatever that place that Sean works for is."

"Then what's the point?" Alex asked.

"The point is that we can give them time to come to that conclusion by themselves," Lorna said, "And, whether you like it or not, it really is time for us to leave the X-men. It's time for you to let Scott grow up and take command. It's time to let go."

Alex turned away. He felt his heart jackhammering in his chest.

"He's twenty-five Alex," Lorna said, "He can handle it."

"I know," Alex said.

"Then why?" Lorna said.

"Why did you bring this up?" Alex snapped.

Lorna looked at him evenly.

"I'm pregnant again," she said.

He stared at her, his hands going limp.

"You're pregnant?" he asked.

"Yes," Lorna said, "And I...I want something different for our children."

She slid her hand from his cheek to clasp his wrist. Slowly she brought both of his hands up to her stomach.

"There are other ways to try to make the world safe for our children," she said, "And the X-men is one of the best ways. You're right about that. But...I'm tired Alex. I'm so tired of all of this. Aren't you?"

He bowed his head.

"Charles and Moira can keep doing this because the X-men isn't just their cause: the school is too," she said, "And they do so much more. I think we can do more too."

Alex swallowed. His heartbeat had slowed, but it wasn't any less intense.

"You're right," he said.

He leaned forwards so that his forehead was touching hers.

"Maybe it is time to let go," he said.

Lorna let out a breath, warm and welcoming onto his face.

"It is," she agreed.

He closed his eyes.

"They're getting together in a few months, some get together that Scott had in mind," Alex said, "I'll...I'll tell them all then."

Lorna squeezed his hands.

"Don't worry," she said, "You're doing the right thing."

"Yeah," Alex said.

He glanced once more at his room before closing his eyes again.

"Yeah, I hope so," he said.


	23. Chapter 23

December 25, 1982

Sharon cocked the crown she'd made out of wrapping paper on her head. It was a little sloppy, and it tangled a little in her hair, but she liked it. She wasn't bad at folding paper, and she always felt like it made her a little more Christmassy.

From the corner Max lay sound asleep, curled up in a pile of wrapping paper and using a new stuffed toy as a pillow. Sharon grinned. She heard that he was going to be a brother soon. His mother didn't look pregnant, but Sharon decided she would trust her on it.

Next to her Kurt picked up a tube of paint and turned it in his hands. Sharon knew that it was expensive and high quality. The color was also special, orange with flecks of gold in it. Kurt had taken off the cap and shown it to her.

He was just like she remembered. She'd only been gone for a few months, but it felt good to be back where people were nice and there was no fear. In Washington she'd heard people shouting at her father. He'd told her that it was nothing to worry about, but it still made her uneasy. She was old enough to know that there were political ramifications to what had happened when the car had exploded.

Her mother still hadn't woken up. Although her burns were healing, her skin was still pale and she was still bandaged. She looked like a princess in a fairytale, but there was no easy way to wake her now. Her father took care of her. Sharon would come down there and spend some time with her every so often. Her father would come down too and read her some comedies by Shakespeare. The words of Puck in_ A Midsummer's Night Dream_ had become comforting to her.

Things were different at Westchester. Everything was quiet and no one was angry. People were kind and lived their lives. Her mother had been moved when they visited, all of her equipment coming with her. Her father said that she needed it to stay alive. If only it could make her wake up.

There was one thing that was different though. She turned her head and saw David sitting on the couch. He looked calm, staring at the soft light that was coming from the light on the Christmas tree. His eyes seemed distant, as though he had gotten older somehow.

Her father had told her that he'd been attacked, him and Kurt, but they were alright. They certainly seemed alright physically, and Kurt seemed cheerful. However, David seemed more withdrawn than he'd been when she'd first met him.

There was noise from the next room. Someone was laughing, and beneath it she could hear the dull murmurs of the grown-ups talking. Terry had joined them after spending a few minutes with them. Sharon wondered what that meant, but Terry was older. Sharon hadn't really known her when she was young. Besides, Sharon's father told her that Terry's father had to be away from home often and she didn't get to see him as much as she wanted to.

On the couch David stiffened. He took a long, deep breath, releasing it after a few minutes. Sharon cocked her head and looked over at Kurt, wondering why his brother was acting odd. He didn't say anything though: he was too distracted by his paint.

She got up and sat down next to David. He glanced over at her before going back to staring at the tree.

"Wanna know a secret?" she asked.

He glanced back at her.

"Why?" he asked.

Sharon frowned.

"Because it's a secret," she said.

"Can I know?" Kurt asked.

She nodded. Kurt leaned forward in anticipation, but David only cocked his head.

"No one knows," she said, "Not even my dad. It was going to be a surprise."

Kurt's grin got wider, but Sharon didn't see that much excitement on David's face. She swung her legs in frustration.

"I can smell stuff," she said.

Kurt flopped back.

"That's no secret," he said, "I can do that."

"No," David said, "What can you smell?"

Sharon grinned in the way she knew showed off her eyeteeth.

"Lots of things," she said, "I can smell the champagne in the next room and the cleaner they used on the coffee table. I can smell dust. I can smell a couple of other things too, but it's a little faint and I'm not sure what they are."

"So that's your mutation," David said.

He smiled faintly and Sharon felt proud.

"Your mutation is that you can smell?" Kurt asked.

"No," David said, ruffling his brother's hair, "She's a feral. She's probably got more stuff coming."

Kurt shoved off his brother's hand, but Sharon could see that he was still smiling. He turned back to her.

"So you're a feral," he said, "Just like your dad."

"Yeah, and you can read minds like your dad," Sharon said.

David nodded. Sharon looked over at Kurt.

"And I hear you can teleport, which just makes you surprising since your dad doesn't do that," she said, "Makes you awesome."

Something flickered in Kurt's eyes, but it passed in a moment. Sharon wondered what she had said, what had happened in the months that she was away.

"It's 'cause Kurt would never do anything so boring as being like our dad," David said.

Kurt laughed, his tail thumping on the floor. From the corner Max woke up blearily.

"Quiet!" he said.

"Max, go back to sleep," Kurt said.

Max pouted before flopping back on his stuffed toy. A moment later he was snoring.

"Does he always sleep like this?" Sharon asked.

"Nope," David said, "But he ran himself out because he was running all over the house this morning. Remember?"

"Oh, right," she said.

She started swinging her legs again.

"Once the baby comes he won't be getting too much sleep," Sharon said, "I hear babies are loud."

"Kurt wasn't," David said.

"Nope," Kurt said.

"That's weird, 'cause you're noisy now," Sharon said.

"I was saving it," Kurt said.

Sharon laughed.

"None of you are gonna get any sleep," she said.

"That's not going to be a problem," David said.

"Oh?" Sharon asked, "Why's that?"

David smiled sadly and leaned back onto the couch.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked.

"Sure," Sharon said.

"Uncle Alex and Aunt Lorna are moving out," he said.

"Really?" Sharon asked.

"Yeah," David said, "They found some jobs up in Alaska working with disadvantaged mutant kids or something. Some sort of after school program for rural communities I think."

His brow furrowed.

"Apparently there's trouble with mutant kids in a lot of rural areas," he said, "The farther out some people are from big population centers, the less they understand mutation."

Sharon wanted to say that she didn't fully understand mutation and she lived in a city, but she decided not too. She didn't want to sound stupid, especially considering that she was a mutant.

"Oh," she said.

"Yeah," David said, "I didn't hear too much."

"Because you were eavesdropping again," Kurt said.

David looked guiltily at his brother.

"I couldn't help it," he said, tapping the side of his head.

Kurt's eyes widened and he nodded. Sharon figured it had something to do with his mutation.

"I hope they have fun," Kurt said.

David laughed, but it had a heavy ring to it. Sharon got the feeling that David had gotten older again.

"I don't think it's going to be fun exactly," he said, "But I think that they're going to like it."

* * *

Lorna sat with her arm around her husband's shoulders, one hand resting on her stomach. Scott was talking about something, she wasn't really paying attention, and Jean was laughing. Ororo was rolling her eyes and Terry and Sean were in deep conversation over something. Moira and Charles were sitting opposite them, both laughing at whatever it was that Scott had said.

She breathed in. Even though she'd been the one who wanted to move, she was going to miss this. There was such an easy camaraderie, such a strong community. It seemed scary to leave it all behind for the unknown.

At the same time, Lorna knew the dangers of getting comfortable in one place. It was one of the things that had tethered her to her family for so long, the belief that she had sunk her roots there. Still, leaving was for the best.

The only people who knew at the moment though were Charles and Moira. They were saving the news for Scott and the rest. It wasn't time yet. Alex had been right about that. They needed to tell all of them.

Lorna splayed her fingers absently over her stomach. There was another child growing in her stomach, a child who would probably be a mutant. She supposed that Max was a mutant, although she didn't know if he would take after her, Alex, or have something altogether new. The vagaries of mutation were best left to people like Charles and Hank.

There was a whole world out there full of fearful, angry people that the child would have to wake up to. They would have to live in a world where their grandmother had been killed by ignorant people and their grandfather toted a banner of hate and revenge, a banner that she had fought under for a long time.

It would be a world where her new child would never know their grandfather. She doubted that Max would know him either. Lorna had known how pitiful, how slender a chance it had been that her father would greet the news of his grandson with anything other than anger. It had still hurt when he'd refused to come though.

He'd refuse to come for her second child as well. At the same time, she knew she would still ask Alex to tell him. No matter how many wounds she received because of her father, she couldn't stop trying. He was her father.

She couldn't stop trying for the sake of her children either. Alex had found some openings for them in Alaska, the state he'd been born in. They would be able to help mutant children growing up in communities ignorant or ill-informed about mutants. What had happened to her mother, what had happened to her, wouldn't have to happen again. Not on her watch.

It was different from what they'd done with the X-men: less fighting and more talking. It wasn't a bad thing. She thought of Max in the next room. He would come back to Westchester one day, when he was older and ready to go to school. She supposed that the child she was carrying would as well.

Even with all of her best laid plans everything seemed so uncertain. Leaving the Institute would be hard, just like leaving Fall River had been hard, and just like leaving her father had been hard. However, when she left this home, at least she would still be able to talk to the people she had left behind.

A hand settled over hers. She looked over and saw Alex smiling at her. It was an uncertain smile, he must have seen what she was thinking about, but it was a sincere one. She entwined her fingers with his and gave them a squeeze.

If he hadn't been waiting for her when she left her father, she would have still left. However, he had made it easier, had helped the wounds stop hurting a little faster. Lorna had been given a good life, one with options.

No matter where she went, he was coming with her, and so was the family that they had made. That was what was important.


	24. Chapter 24

March 2, 1983

"It's good to see you all again," Scott said, "It's...really weird to see how much you've all changed."

Alex looked over all of his students, feeling a strange lump in his throat. Lorna stood next to him, but he knew it wasn't the same for her. Some of his best life's work was standing in front of him, all in different places in their lives. It felt surreal.

Although he still saw Scott, Ororo, and Jean daily, having them gather in the Danger Room with their old teammates only seemed to emphasize how far they'd come. Calvin and Clarice were still together, standing with their hands entwined. She looked bright and happy. He heard that she was highly regarded with her firm. Calvin looked a little older, but happy. He was still working with disadvantaged youth in Miami, and he seemed to be doing well too.

Warren's suits were better tailored. His father had recently passed and Warren had inherited the company. Apparently he'd taken it to new places, and was making quite a success of himself in the business world.

It was all a little dizzying. Scott was right: they had changed. Alex couldn't find words to express it though.

"You've all gotten older anyway," Alex said.

There was some scattered laughter.

"Not that much older," Ororo said.

"You've qualified as a teacher," Alex said, "You're old."

Ororo rolled her eyes.

"I'm not old," she said, "And no one else is either."

"We're not teenagers anymore anyway," Calvin said.

Alex managed a smile. He could remember the words to announce his retirement, to tell his former students that things were going to be different now. He'd been talking about handing over the reigns to Scott for a long time, and now it was happening. It was difficult, but he would have to do it now. They needed to know.

As he reached for words he saw Calvin glance over at Clarice, who inclined her head. Calvin cleared his throat.

"Look, I, we, actually have something to tell you all," he said.

Alex frowned and looked at Lorna. She shrugged. It looked like she didn't know either. He waited. He could tell them after Calvin said his piece. It couldn't be too important.

"Clarice and I have been engaged for three years," Calvin said.

There was a long pause. He'd been wrong.

"Sorry?" Alex said.

"It's true," Clarice said, "He proposed to me the night we graduated."

She looked over at him and smiled. All Alex could do was continue to stare at them.

"And...and then you moved to different states?" Jean said.

Her voice seemed thunderstruck. Calvin gave a sheepish smile.

"Um, yeah," he said, "Looking back it probably wasn't the best idea but..."

He put his arm around Clarice's shoulders.

"I didn't want to lose her," he said.

"And you haven't," Clarice said.

She looked over at the rest of them, her voice calm and confident.

"And we've decided to tell you all, because we want to get married," she said, "And we want you all to be there."

There was another pause.

"When?" Lorna asked.

She was smiling, but like the rest of them she looked faintly puzzled.

"We got the license a few days ago, and we booked an appointment with the local justice in about two hours," Clarice said, "So, in about two hours."

Alex looked between her and Calvin. He had to take it back: they had changed in more ways than just their lines of work. Clarice was, in that moment, almost unrecognizable as the girl he'd helped rescue in South America. There was so little about her that was walled off anymore, although she still talked in that brisk, slightly stiff way. If she was willing to get married on only a few days notice, she was definitely more confident about who she was.

Calvin was more confident too. He wasn't the teenager who had taken the codename Mimic just to spite Ororo, wasn't trying to prove himself anymore. In his mind, it looked like he'd already proved himself if Clarice was marrying him.

Alex squeezed Lorna's hand. Her eyes met his, and he could tell that she knew what he was thinking. She tilted her head and smiled, and he smiled back. Their announcement could certainly wait in light of this.

* * *

"Clarice and Calvin, today you celebrate one of life's greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauties of love, as you join together in the vows of marriage."

Calvin didn't look at the judge. He kept his eyes glued on Clarice. She was wearing a simple white gown that she had purchased at a department store. Clarice had insisted that she hadn't wanted a big wedding, hadn't wanted the frills and the pomp. All she'd wanted was the ceremony that joined them and their old friends and mentors.

It was one of the reasons he loved her: she was so straightforward. Then again, springing everything on their friends had been her idea. She had a streak of humor in her, one that he found hard to resist.

"Calvin, do you take Clarice to be your wife?" the judge asked.

He grinned. Behind him he knew that everyone was looking at them, no doubt thinking that they were crazy for doing such a thing on such short notice. Charles and Moira had been shocked, but they had quickly given their congratulations. He risked a glance back. They'd even brought Kurt and David, who sat in the front row.

David seemed to be a little bored, but Kurt looked fascinated. He wondered if he and Clarice were going to have any children. They'd briefly talked about it, but it wasn't as though they were in a hurry. No matter what everyone else might think, they were willing to take their time. After all, they'd waited for three years before getting married.

Now that those three years were over, he was tired of waiting. He just wanted Clarice to be his wife and for her to move down to Florida. Clarice, practical like she'd always been, had already found a job there.

"I do," he said.

"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?"

Calvin squeezed her hands tighter. There was no one else that he wanted.

"I do," he said.

The judge turned to Clarice, and her green eyes met Calvin's.

* * *

"Clarice, do you take Calvin to be your husband?"

The question sounded easy. At the same time, she knew that she was tying her future to the man in front of her, and it was somewhat terrifying to know that. Clarice wondered if this was what Moira, Carly, and Lorna had felt as they said their vows.

Yet, the answer was one that she had agreed to three years ago after getting her associate's. She hadn't changed her mind.

"I do," she said.

"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him?" the judge asked.

Clarice almost laughed. How could she not forsake all others for him? She remembered the sickening words she'd said to him about him finding some pretty girl to moon over in Miami. He'd stayed faithful to her for three years where they only occasionally saw each other. Clarice would have to be a fool to pass up a man like that.

As for protecting him, Clarice had been doing that for years. She still remembered punching Avalanche out when they went to rescue Lorna. It had been Calvin's first mission, and she could still see the look of awe in his face.

"I do," she said.

"Now," the judge said, "If you would repeat after me."

He turned to Calvin.

"I, Calvin, take thee Clarice, to be my wife," he said.

"I, Calvin, take thee Clarice, to be my wife," Calvin repeated.

"To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and I promise my love to you," the judge said.

"To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer," Calvin said.

He looked up at her, his eyes still awash in that childish optimism and innocence she'd seen so many years ago, something that had somehow surfaced after his years on the streets.

"And I promise my love to you," he said.

"With this ring I thee wed," the judge said.

Calvin fumbled with the ring for a moment before slipping it on her finger.

"With this ring I thee wed," he said.

She took a deep breath. Now it was her turn.

"I, Clarice, take thee Calvin, to be my husband," the judge said.

"I, Clarice, take thee Calvin, to be my husband," she said.

"To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and I promise my love to you," the judge said.

"To have and to hold, in sickness and in health," Clarice said.

She thought of all the times she'd seen him injured as an X-man. She took a deep breath. Their X-men days were over, or postponed for now. At least they wouldn't have to contend with that. If they did though, she knew it wouldn't change anything.

"For richer or for poorer," she said, "and I promise my love to you."

"With this ring I thee wed."

She pulled out the ring that she had gotten Calvin. Her name was written on the inside of it, just like she knew Calvin's was written on the inside of hers.

"With this ring I thee wed," she said.

Calvin smiled at her. She knew that he was anticipating the end of the ceremony, what it would mean. She was too.

"Calvin and Clarice, just as two very different threads woven in opposite directions can form a beautiful tapestry, so can your two lives merge together to form a very beautiful marriage," the judge said, "To make your marriage work will take love. Love should be the core of your marriage, love is the reason you are here. But it also will take trust- to know in your hearts you want the best for each other. It will take dedication- to stay open to one another; to learn and to grow together even when this is not always so easy to do. It will take faith, to be willing to go forward to tomorrow, never really knowing what tomorrow will bring."

She wanted to laugh again. They had already proven to each other that they could face uncertainty. They had faced it and come out triumphant, Calvin's hope and love giving her the faith to give herself over completely to something she didn't fully understand.

"In addition, it will take commitment, to hold true to the journey, you both now pledge to share together."

They'd had three years of knowing that they could hold true to the journey.

"Calvin and Clarice, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in matrimony, have promised your love for each other by these vows, I now declare you to be husband and wife," the judge said.

Clarice felt her eyes fill with tears. She couldn't help it. Not after everything.

"Congratulations, you may kiss your bride."

Calvin's lips seared across hers and she closed her eyes, allowing a few tears to slide down her cheek. She'd trusted him, and now it turned out he was right. He was permanent.

* * *

_**A/N: **For my wedding ceremonies I use texts from actual ceremonies. This one was different though, since I had to look up something different for a civil ceremony. It seemed a little more Calvin and Clarice somehow. _


	25. Chapter 25

March 3, 1983

The wedding party had lasted long into the night. Warren figured that it was actually morning now, but he wasn't quite sure. Everything seemed a little blurry after the ceremony. Although the wedding had been rather sudden, there had been quite a lot of champagne afterwards.

Warren wasn't a stranger to the copious consumption of alcohol, he'd been to plenty of business parties that had taken an interesting turn rather quickly. He could always hold his alcohol, although not as well as he'd like. At least he'd never thrown up on anyone. However, something about being back at the Institute had him feeling self-conscious.

Scott talked a lot about how everyone had changed. Warren thought that it was more telling that, no, no one had changed that much. Alex still seemed domineering, standing in the corner of the room, his Brotherhood-turned-X-man, and once again pregnant wife by his side. Warren thought that, now that he was older, Alex wouldn't seem as quite so much of a giant to him. Instead he seemed bigger somehow.

The Professor and Moira seemed more set into their roles somehow, that same welcoming family image that seemed a little less necessary now. Sean was still semi-absent, he didn't know where he was now, and Hank was just straight out gone. The children were growing up, but he had never really known them that much, so it didn't make too much of an impression.

He looked around him. Clarice and Calvin were standing together, their ringed hands clasped tightly together. Warren supposed that they were the Rankins now. He couldn't believe that they had managed to make sense of what he felt was a very long distance relationship. Their hands were entwined and he wondered how they'd managed to make that thing permanent.

As for Scott and Jean, they were gloomily unchanged. Scott was still his brother's pet and Jean was still standing in the position as the smart and perfect person she always was. Even the sight of the two of them brought back his old feelings of inadequacy and rejection.

It irked him that it still stung after all the years that had passed that he'd lived so long in Scott's shadow. Warren knew that it shouldn't. He was a successful businessman with more money than Scott would probably see in his life. Scott would probably never even leave the Institute, never be anything outside of it, but he was still the cheerful, perfect teenager grown into an adult.

Next to him Ororo smiled. She'd calmed down with the passing years, he supposed it was her teaching career, but there was still a fierce fire there that he admired. He was glad. No matter what, he knew that he could always be confident about her friendship.

"You look a little out of it Warren," she said.

"Ah, you know how it is," he said.

"Not really," Ororo said, "Three years. I can't believe they kept it secret from all of us for so long."

"It seems like a very Clarice thing to do," Warren said.

He rubbed his temples.

"Even thinking about it makes my head hurt," he said.

"Because that never happens," Ororo said.

Warren laughed.

"Alright Miss Teacher," he said, "Go ahead, but I'm getting another drink."

"Don't overdo it," Ororo warned.

"Yes mother," Warren said.

He waved to her, laughing, and headed into the next room. It was empty, but he knew there were still a few bottles in there. As he began to pour himself a drink he heard voices from the next room over.

"Some night, huh Alex?" Scott asked.

"You can say that again," Alex said.

Warren rolled his eyes and picked up his glass. It looked like the Summers brothers were having a heart to heart. Again.

"I didn't think this night would be so surprising," Scott said.

Putting the bottle down Warren took a sip of his drink.

"Scott, there's something I have to tell you," Alex said, "I was going to tell everyone tonight, but I don't want to steal Calvin and Clarice's spotlight."

Warren took another sip, barely paying attention. It wasn't his brother who was talking.

"I'm going to retire Scott," Alex said, "Me and Lorna."

Warren nearly choked on his drink. His eyes widened and he tried to keep from spitting it out everywhere. He looked behind his shoulder at the adjoining doorway. He knew that they couldn't tell that he was listening, but still.

"What?" Scott asked.

"Lorna thinks it's time, and I have to agree," Alex said, "Scott, we've got Max now, and now there's another child on the way."

Warren edged away from the door, feeling his nerves go taut.

"But, Alex-" Scott said.

"No, I know what you're thinking," Alex said, "Isn't that his life? And yeah, I understand. But, well, I think that it might be time to move on-"

There was a pause where Warren could hear Alex taking a deep breath.

"-and give the next generation a chance."

Warren felt his heart rate speed up, his thoughts boiling through the alcohol.

"Alex...you can't mean-"

"I do," Alex said, "I couldn't leave the X-men in better hands than yours."

A pain began in Warren's head. He set his glass down and left the room as quickly and quietly as he could. He didn't want to hear anymore. Warren shouldn't even have been listening in the first place, but now he felt sick. He also felt drained, both emotionally and physically.

It shouldn't have mattered that Scott was taking over the X-men. He'd been groomed for the position since he was a teenager. Besides, why did the team's leadership mean anything at all to him? Warren hadn't even been a member for years.

Somehow it did matter though. Warren was important outside of the Institute, but inside it he was a footnote. It shouldn't matter, and he leaned against the wall, angry. Why couldn't he let it go? Why the hell did Scott's success get to him?

The alcohol seemed to melt away and he suddenly felt like crying. Being a footnote did matter, and it wasn't because he was clinging to his childhood. The X-men had been the only time in his life when he'd done something meaningful, and his contribution to that had been paltry. He'd only excelled at things other teammates could do better, had a mutation that was barely conducive to combat. He might have been on the team or off it, and it wouldn't have mattered.

He staggered towards the main entrance hall. He could remember when he'd first come in, his eyes wide and hoping that someone could help him with his wings. Now he appreciated them, but what purpose had he put them to?

Warren sat down on one of the steps and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that made him teary: he was sober enough to know that he wasn't drunk enough to blame everything on the champagne. Warren wished he could just leave the Institute. He could see now that coming back had been a mistake.

"Whatcha doing?"

Warren looked up. David was walking down behind him. His Scooby-Doo pajamas belied the strangely intelligent look on his face. Warren could see that his eyes were a little red: not with crying, but as though he were tired.

"You should be in bed," Warren said.

It was just about all he could manage.

"I have trouble sleeping," David said.

He sat down and nodded towards the sounds of the party.

"Why aren't you there?" he asked.

"Needed some air," Warren said.

It was an understatement, but he didn't want to snap at David. No matter how irritated he was David was just a kid, and it wouldn't be fair.

"You should go outside," David said.

"I don't need that much air," Warren said.

David nodded. For a moment they sat in silence, the sounds of the party trickling through.

"I was hoping I'd find you actually," David said.

Warren looked at him.

"Why?" he asked.

David swung his legs.

"I was pretty young when you left," he said.

"You're still pretty young," Warren said.

David shrugged.

"I never thanked you," he said.

Warren raised his eyebrows.

"What for?" he asked.

David looked at him as though he was an idiot. It was pretty much how Warren felt.

"You saved my mom," David said.

Warren blinked, trying to remember what he was talking about. After a moment he remembered when they had fought Sinister, holding his arm over Moira's mouth, cutting it so his healing blood trickled into her mouth.

"Oh, that," Warren said, "No biggie. Now go back to bed."

David's eyes narrowed.

"It's not nothing to me," he snapped.

Immediately Warren drew back. There just seemed to be so much venom in David's voice. David closed his eyes for a moment and then breathed in.

"She's still here because of what you did," he said, "And Kurt got to know her. He wouldn'tve gotten to know her if she'd died then."

David drew his legs up to his chest.

"So thanks for doing what no one else could've," he said.

Warren blinked, surprised at the turn the conversation had taken, but he shrugged.

"No one else has healing blood," he said.

"Nope, but no one else told you to do what you did," David said.

Warren wanted to tell him that no one else had known, but that wasn't true. Scott and Boom-Boom had both known, and neither of them had thought to give it a try. He hesitated, turning over the thought in his head.

"Thanks," he said.

David nodded and yawned.

"Now I'm going to give sleeping another try," he said.

"Good luck," Warren said.

David nodded and headed up the stairs. Warren stared straight ahead of himself. He'd saved Moira Xavier. How could he have forgotten about that? It had been such a small act, but it had certainly meant the world to David, Charles, and Kurt. Now that he concentrated he could remember that Charles had thanked him afterwards. He'd looked like a man handed a pardon as he stood before the firing squad.

How many other people had he helped and saved and just never given a thought to? He'd never gotten the bad guy like Scott and saved the day, but did he have to? Warren had carried Terry safely down to the hanger where she'd seen her father. He'd saved bystanders from becoming collateral during their missions. They'd gone home to their families because of him.

He straightened up. He'd done something, even if he wasn't a super X-man like Scott. He'd been a good X-man, even if he wasn't one anymore. He didn't have to be. There were other things he could do with his life.

Warren had an enviable, and rather sizable, income. There were things he could do with that. He could help people. It was like his eyes were opened and, suddenly, he didn't feel like he'd hit rock bottom. He felt like a door had been opened somewhere.

He got to his feet and straightened his suit. Tonight was the beginning of something else. Scott could continue being an X-man: it was what he did best. Warren had been a good X-man, and he could be proud of his record. However, like Alex, it was time for him to move on.


	26. Chapter 26

May 29, 1983

"Now, both of you," David's father said, "I want you to understand that this is not to be taken too lightly. You can still get hurt doing this, so I want you two to be careful. It's why you're wearing protective gear."

David pulled at the helmet strap, shifting his weight. He eyed the door to the Danger Room, aware that Scott was in the observation room. David had been in that room once or twice, looking jealously down as Terry got to participate in simulations along with Jaime and John.

Now he was going to get his chance. He looked over at Kurt, whose tail swished through the air thoughtfully. He could see that his brother was excited as well, but he wasn't as excited as he was. It couldn't dampen David's enthusiasm though. He'd wanted to be an X-man for as long as he could remember. Now he was taking his first steps towards it.

His mother walked in. She looked over the two of them with a slightly dismayed look. Kurt stopped swishing his tail and David frowned. His mother's face quickly returned to normal as she walked over to them.

"Got everything together?" she asked, "No loose straps or anything?"

"No mom," David said.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

David nodded. She put her hands on their shoulders.

"Alright," she said, "It's on a low setting. Just don't try anything too dangerous to impress us, okay?"

"Got it mom," David said.

"I understand," Kurt said.

She smiled and walked over to their father.

"Go on in," she said, "Scott should be starting the simulation soon."

Now that Alex was gone Scott was in charge of the Danger Room. He knew he was in charge of the X-men as well, and they had gone on a few missions. Terry had already started going with them using the codename Siryn. She'd told David it was to honor her father.

David knew that Jaime and John were X-men too. Their codenames were Multiple Man and Thunderbird. He didn't think that their codenames were as good as Terry's, but they still got to be X-men before him. He'd catch up to them soon enough, and his codename would be cooler than either of theirs.

David grinned at his parents and hurried inside the room. Without the simulation on the room looked unassuming, just rows and rows of florescent squares. He knew that they would project a situation soon, although he knew that they would probably be on one that didn't include any Brotherhood members. He figured that they'd just use the one with the spheres that shot lasers or something.

Kurt walked next to him, peering around. He squinted.

"It's too bright," he said.

"It won't be that way for long," David said, "It changes."

"How?" Kurt asked.

"I'm not sure," David said, "But once it changes it won't be so bright."

The light began to ripple. David gave Kurt a thumbs-up.

"What did I tell you?" he said.

He watched as sphere-like shapes appeared. David grinned. He'd been right: it was the one with the spheres.

"The objective is to last for six minutes," Scott said, his voice coming over the speakers, "It's more difficult than it sounds."

David knew it was hard. He'd seen Terry go through it in the past. Still, he knew that he was going to be able to beat it, even if it wasn't on the first try. He was too excited to be in the Danger Room for the first time to worry about losing.

The lasers started coming fast. He dodged them, grinning. David felt like this was what he was meant for as he jumped over the different obstacles that were thrown in his way. Doing this sort of thing was in his blood. His father had founded the X-men and, while he had mixed feelings about his father, he could still be proud of that.

_It's nothing to be proud of!_

David lost his balance and fell to the ground, shoving the voice back. He narrowly managed to avoid a laser. He knew it wouldn't have hurt, but it had come too close. David swallowed and got back to his feet shakily.

Several of the different spheres moved towards him. He looked around him, seeing that he was surrounded. David swallowed. He couldn't be out of the Danger Room so early, but he wasn't sure how telepathy was going to help him.

Next to him he heard a soft explosion. He turned his head just in time for Kurt to grab his arm. Black smoke filled his vision and he ended up on the other side of the room, coughing while Kurt looked at him with wide eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

David nodded and tried to focus his vision. He'd known that his brother could teleport, he'd just never experienced it himself. It was disorienting to say the least, but it was definitely useful in the Danger Room.

A sphere shot a laser out and David pushed Kurt out of the way. They tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs, but Kurt quickly got back to his feet. David envied his quickness, but he seemed to have a little trouble concentrating on one thing.

"Three minutes left to go."

David winced. They'd only been in there for three minutes? He eyed the different spheres and an idea started to form in his head. He looked at Kurt.

_Can you teleport me to the ceiling?_ he thought, _Above one of the spheres?_

Kurt looked at the ceiling and squinted. Another sphere came over and David grabbed his hand. They dived behind one of the obstacles as the sphere fired.

_Can you?_ David thought.

_Yeah, I think so_, Kurt thought.

He took a deep breath. David smiled.

_Give it a try, okay?_

Black smoke filled his vision again. David coughed and opened his eyes. He looked down and saw the Danger Room's floor feet below them. They landed on one of the spheres. Another spun around and fired at them.

_Teleport!_

There was more black smoke. When they landed on the floor the sphere above them exploded into pixels. David looked at Kurt.

_Great job_, he thought, _Let's do it again._

Kurt flashed his fangs. A moment later they were on another one of the spheres. Kurt teleported them four more times before David started to feel overwhelmingly nauseous. However, before he could tell Kurt that they had to stop, he heard Scott's voice over the speakers.

"And that's six minutes. Well done."

David clapped Kurt on the back.

"Awesome!" he said.

He swayed on his feet. Kurt noticed and frowned.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine," David said, "Just a little nauseous."

Kurt looked at his feet.

"Sorry," he said.

"Don't be," David said, "I asked you to do it. And it was awesome."

He clapped Kurt on the back again.

"We make a pretty great team," he said.

Kurt's eyes met his.

"Yeah," he said.

David saw the spheres ripple away, the image returning to the fluorescent squares.

"We're going to have to do something about me getting nauseous though," he said.

"Like what?" Kurt asked.

The door on the far side of the room opened and their parents walked in. David nudged Kurt conspiratorially.

_Wanna practice teleporting sometime?_ he thought.

Kurt flashed his fangs again.

_Sounds awesome._

* * *

Alex looked around the house in disbelief. It was shocking how familiar it was. He had bought it, sight unseen. All he'd needed to know was the address, and the fact that it was even on the market was shocking enough.

His childhood home seemed somehow frozen in time. There was no furniture in it, not yet. Lorna and he had been living in an apartment since the new baby had been born. It seemed cramped after Westchester, but he figured that everything would seem cramped after the Institute's spacious halls.

Max ran out in front of him, laughing. He'd taken to the move well. Alaska seemed like an exciting wilderness, a place to be explored and played in. Alex knew that he missed his friends, but it was better for them to move when they had.

"How's it going?" Lorna asked.

He took a deep breath as Lorna joined his side. He managed a smile.

"Fine," he said.

He looked at the small bundle in her arms.

"How's our little princess doing?" he asked.

Lorna smiled and looked down at their newborn daughter. Luna shifted in her mother's arms, her chubby hands in front of her face. Lorna leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"She's sleepier than Max was," she said.

"With any luck she's bypassed the Summers hyper gene and gotten a little of your good sense," he said.

Lorna tossed her head.

"With any luck," she said.

She paused and looked around the house.

"I think we'll be able to move in soon," she said, "It's in good condition."

"It is, isn't it?" Alex asked.

He shook his head.

"I last lived here twenty-two years ago," he said, "I just...I just didn't think that it would still be here. I guess it just disappeared with my old life in my mind. But it's all still here."

He walked up to a wall and ran his hand against it.

"I hit my head against this wall when I was trying to fly a kite indoors," he said, "I got grounded for two weeks."

"Why am I not surprised?" Lorna asked.

Alex chuckled. He pointed at a window.

"I was playing baseball with my dad," he said, "I threw the ball, he hit it. It shattered the window. My mom was pretty pissed about that."

He walked over to the pantry. Alex was scared to go there. He swallowed but opened the door anyway. What he saw made his heart clench.

"And this is where my mom marked how tall we were getting," he said.

He ran his hand along the pencil lines that had faded with age. He could just make out "Alex" and "Scott" in his mother's handwriting.

"I was so damn short," he said.

Lorna's hand grasped his shoulder. He looked over at her and smiled, even though it was forced.

"We can make new lines," Lorna said, "I think Luna's growing already."

Alex laughed, a guttural, choked sound. From outside he heard Max's voice.

"Dad, look at this!"

Alex walked out the back door, Lorna close behind him. What he saw made him stop short.

"Dad, it's a tree house!" Max yelled.

He stared as his son ran around the tree. Even though it was run down, the tree house from his childhood was still there. He remembered the tree house intimately, handing his father nails and timber. Images of the first night he'd spent up there with his father and Scott flooded his mind, the way his mother had laughed indulgently at them.

Alex could feel his wife behind him, no doubt remembering the story he'd told her about the tree house years ago. She had a knack for remembering those sorts of things.

"Looks like whoever bought the house wasn't a dick," she said.

He smiled, still feeling flabbergasted. Max made another lap before running up to him.

"Can I climb it?" he asked.

Alex managed to laugh.

"Not right now," he said, "I have to repair it first."

He cocked his head and ruffled his son's hair.

"What's say we do it together?" he asked.

Max's face lit up.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah," Alex said.

He looked back at the tree house.

"Really," he said.


	27. Chapter 27

October 10, 1984

"What are you reading?" Kurt asked.

From the couch David flipped a page.

"Some records from the X-men, profiles of Brotherhood members, that sort of thing," David said, "They didn't use to keep great records back when they were first starting out. I don't think they would've written anything down at all if it wasn't for Uncle Hank."

Kurt squeezed out his tube of yellow paint and stirred it with the other colors on his palate. He began filling in the face that he had sketched out with the paint, giving it a base layer. He was still trying to figure out how to give objects good depth.

"Isn't that boring?" Kurt said.

"Kind of," David said, "It's pretty good reading for when you have trouble sleeping."

Kurt laughed.

"But still, I'm trying to study up and find out everything I can, be the best that I can be and all that," David said, "I think that we need to know our past so we get a pretty good idea of where the future is heading."

"Whatever," Kurt said.

David always confused him when he started to get deep. He preferred not to get into it. His brother coughed.

"But uh, Kurt, I just...there's some things in here..."

His brother's voice faltered. Kurt closed his eyes for a minute.

"I just think that maybe-" David started.

"No," Kurt said.

David frowned, pushing the book off his chest.

"I don't wanna look through it," Kurt said.

For a moment Kurt could see that David was frowning at the book, his lips pursed. His brother's expression slowly softened and he took the book off his chest.

"You read this, didn't you?" David asked.

"I started to look at some of the profiles, yeah," Kurt said, "I thought I should."

He stopped painting.

"I know about the guy who looks like me," Kurt said.

Kurt took a deep breath.

"You know, I bet there are lots of mutants that have tails and look like demons," he said.

"You don't look like a demon Kurt," David said, "But you're right. There are probably tons of guys who look like that, as mutants go anyway."

Although he didn't agree with his brother's summary of him, he was right. There was also a tinge of pride in his voice that Kurt couldn't place. Either way Kurt nodded and resumed painting.

"I just don't feel like talking about it," Kurt said.

"We don't have to," David said, "It's not important."

Inwardly Kurt sighed in relief. He heard his brother move the book around on the couch.

"So what would your codename be?" David asked.

Kurt cocked his head to the side.

"I think there's too much yellow," he said.

"That's not a good codename," David said, "It's too long and it's one hell of a mouthful."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"No, seriously," he said, "Look at the picture."

David got up from his seat on the couch and sighed. He walked over to the picture Kurt was painting and shook his head.

"Nah, I think it's got a good balance," he said, "It's a nice flesh tone."

Kurt put his paints down.

"I think there's too much yellow," he said.

"Yeah, I got that," David said, "Seriously though, it looks good."

"Looking good and being good aren't the same thing," Kurt said.

"I think you overthink this sometimes," David said.

Kurt paused, wondering how he would explain what he felt to his brother. He scratched his chin, smearing a streak of flesh tone paint there.

"I like things to be perfect," Kurt said.

"Don't we all?" David asked.

He put his hand on the top of the easel.

"Perfect is relative though," he said.

Kurt paused. He'd always thought that beauty was the subjective part of his art.

"I know not everything can be perfect," he said, "But it's paint, and getting the right color is awesome."

"Now you're talking like a ten-year-old again," David said.

He wanted to say that his brother talked like he was much older than fourteen, but decided against it. He knew David didn't like to talk about the maturity that had been forced onto him.

"But seriously," David said, "What do you want your codename to be? You never answered my question."

"Codename for what?" Kurt said.

"The Invaders," David said.

"Huh?"

"For the X-men dummy," David said.

Kurt hesitated. He put down his paintbrush and flicked his tail out.

"I don't wanna be an X-man," Kurt said.

Next to him David took a step back. Kurt looked at his brother, saw how his eyes were full of shock.

"Wait, what?" David asked.

"I don't wanna be an X-man," Kurt said.

David moved his lips for a moment before shaking his head.

"Why?" he asked.

Kurt wondered if he should tell him about what his mother had said the night Kurt found out he was adopted. He decided against it: he didn't see what good it would do. If their mother wanted to press the issue she would have told them herself. She was that kind of person.

"I just...it's not fun," Kurt said.

"What?" David asked, "Of course it's fun. We do a lot of great stuff together. Didn't we have a great time last week when we made that popcorn cart explode at that carnival simulation?"

Kurt had to laugh.

"That was pretty funny," he said.

"See?" David asked.

Kurt stopped laughing.

"That's not the same thing though," he said, "I mean, that's a game. It's not a game out there."

"Of course it's not a game," David said, "The X-men are serious."

"Well, it's only fun right now because it is a game," Kurt said, "And...I don't wanna die."

His brother folded his arms.

"Who says you're gonna die?" he asked.

"It's dangerous," Kurt said.

"Well, yeah," David said, "But I know that you're not a coward or anything."

"I'm not scared," Kurt said.

"I just said that I knew that," David said, "Come on, there has to be another reason."

Once more Kurt considered telling his brother about his mother's words. He couldn't though, so he decided to tell him something that he hadn't told anyone else.

"I'm a pacifist."

David stared at him.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"A pacifist," Kurt said, hoping that he'd gotten the word right, "I don't wanna fight anyone."

The words felt strange on his tongue, but he'd decided where he stood a long time ago. His initial feelings on the subject had come the night where he'd sat in the hospital, staring up at the cross. He didn't want to be a soldier like Alex or the others. Kurt wanted to be a man of peace, wanted to avoid the pain that would come with fighting.

"Um, Kurt?" David said, "We kind of do a lot of fighting, all of us. And that's what keeps us safe."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"And if you didn't want to learn how to fight, then you should've said something sooner," David said.

"And I'm not saying that's wrong," Kurt said, "And...I don't mind being taught how to fight. I just...don't want to have to use it."

David made a face.

"That doesn't make any sense," he said.

Kurt sighed in frustration.

"I just don't want to be an X-man," he said.

"Okay, okay," David said.

He put his hands in front of him.

"You don't have to do anything," David said, "But..."

He shrugged one shoulder and grinned.

"Is there anything that you want me to call you while we're in the Danger Room?" he asked, "It'd be fun. Besides..."

David's grin widened.

"You might change your mind," he said, "We work really well together."

Kurt crossed his arms. He thought about it for a moment. He didn't think he was going to change his mind, but he wasn't sure that he would be able to adequately explain his feelings to his brother. The best that he could probably hope for was some sort of acceptance of his decisions.

Then again, he wasn't in any sort of hurry. X-men didn't go into the field until they were fifteen or sixteen. Kurt was only ten. He'd have plenty of time before he had to tell anyone other than David that he didn't want to be an X-man. He'd already learned that five or six years was enough time for a lot to change.

"How about Nightcrawler?" he asked.

His brother looked at him for a moment, his lips shaping the word.

"It's 'cause I can climb up walls and blend into shadows," Kurt said.

David winced.

"It's also a worm," he said.

"No it isn't," Kurt said.

"It most definitely is," David said, "We dissected some of them in my biology class."

Kurt made a face. Knowing that Nightcrawler was also a worm took away some of the appeal. Still, he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"But it's cool," Kurt said.

"I know it is," David said, "But some people are gonna think worm when they hear it."

"I don't care," Kurt said.

He painted some more paint onto his canvas.

"People can be dumb," he said, "Calvin got called Mimic as an insult, and he took it for his codename."

"That was to rub their faces in it," David said.

Kurt stopped painting.

"Or it's to show how strong he was," Kurt said.

"I think I'm right," David said.

"Well, he turned an insult around," Kurt said, "He accepted it and kinda, I dunno, moved on with it. Turned it into a strength."

David titled his head, considering it.

"Okay, I guess you have a point," David said.

Kurt resumed painting.

"What would you call yourself?" he asked.

His brother knitted his brows together.

"You know, I haven't actually thought about it," he said.

Kurt jammed his paintbrush against his canvas.

"And you were givin' me a hard time!" Kurt said.

"I wasn't, I just wanted to know," David said, "That's not a crime you know, being curious."

"But you don't know what you want to be," Kurt said, "And you actually wanna be an X-man."

"Well don't get on my back about it," David said, "When I was younger I didn't have any powers, so I didn't want to jump the gun on giving myself a name. What if my powers were nothing like dad's and I, I dunno, ended up being able to set things on fire?"

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," Kurt said.

David nodded and sat on the edge of the couch. He was level with Kurt.

"I don't know now," he said, "I suppose if I wanted to do what Calvin did I'd call myself Legion or something."

His voice became bitter.

"For we are many," David said.

He snorted and winced at the same time. Kurt swished his tail back and forth as his brother hit the side of his head. He did that often, and Kurt knew it had to do with the voices he heard, the voices that had invaded his mind. He kept silent though: it wouldn't do to draw attention to his brother's pain.

When David was done Kurt swallowed.

"It sounds cool," he said, his voice timid.

David just smiled and flopped back, his eyes closed.

"You're gonna be an awesome X-man David," Kurt said.

"Yeah," David said.

"No," Kurt said, "I mean it.

David cracked an eye open.

"Thanks Kurt," he said.

He smiled again, this one more genuine.

"It means a lot coming from you," he said.


	28. Chapter 28

April 16, 1985

"So you just have to reset it," Alex said.

"That simple?" David said.

"Yes, that simple," Alex said.

He rubbed his temples. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Max played with a kite in their front lawn. Lorna was upstairs with Luna, who was about to take her afternoon nap. It was one of the few days where their days off actually lined up, and he'd looked forward to relaxing.

Then he'd got the phone call.

"I could have sworn that I'd told Scott about this," he said.

"It's not my fault he didn't know how to reprogram the Danger Room," David said, "I told him to reset it, but does he listen? Nope."

Alex laughed.

"Okay, okay," he said, "Just tell me if it works."

There was a shuffling noise on the other end, followed by a loud clunk and whirring.

"Alright!" David said.

"So it worked?" Alex said.

"Yup," David said.

He heard a door open on the other end.

"So, it turns out you reset it," David said, "Who was right?"

"Yes, yes, you can gloat later," Scott said, "Can I talk to my brother?"

"Sure thing," David said.

He heard the phone change hands.

"Looks like you've got a lot going on over there," Alex said.

"Tell me about it," Scott said.

A door shut in the distance.

"So how's it going over on your end?" Scott asked.

"The usual," Alex said, "We've got a few seminars coming up, and we've only gotten protested three times in the past two months. It's a pretty good start."

"Only you would say that," Scott asked.

Alex shifted his phone and glanced out the window. Max was still playing with his kite, and the area was clear.

"Any news from Hank?" Alex asked, "Anything...you know."

"Not really," Scott said, "They routinely scanned Carly for brain activity again Thursday, but it wasn't any different from last time."

"So, inconclusive," Alex sighed.

He rubbed his temples again. It was hard to believe that the bright, intelligent woman that Hank had married had been in a coma for three years. Alex knew that it was tearing Hank apart, but he'd managed to put on a brave front for Sharon. Alex didn't know how he did it.

"And how are things going on your end besides a Danger Room breakdown?" Alex said, "What's it like being field leader?"

His brother hesitated and Alex frowned.

"Scott?" he asked.

"I ran into Magneto yesterday," Scott said, "And I told him about Luna."

Alex clenched his hand into a fist.

"And let me guess," he said, "He was an asshole again, wasn't he?"

"Pretty much," Scott sighed.

With a great force of effort he uncurled his fist.

"It's not like I really wanted him coming here," Alex said, "But she's his daughter dammit. I'd never just abandon Luna."

"No, but you're not Magneto," Scott said.

He heard his brother shuffle his phone.

"But Alex...I have a difficult decision to make coming up," Scott said, "And, well...I just wondered if you could give me some advice."

Alex bowed his head. It felt like it just kept coming.

"What about?" he asked.

"I have to tell Charles something about the X-men that he doesn't want to hear," Scott said, "And then he's going to have to deliver a message that no one wants."

"And the message is?" Alex asked.

Scott hesitated again.

"Okay, okay, don't tell me," Alex said, "But the answer really is pretty simple. It's your job to tell Charles bad news, things that he needs to hear."

"Like?" Scott asked.

He closed his eyes, remembering.

"Like the first time Mystique forced a fatality outcome," he said.

"Oh," Scott said.

Alex opened his eyes again.

"But that's what you and I have to do, as X-men, and as people," he said, "You just have to speak up and say it. He can't be out there on the field, so you have to be his eyes and ears. He won't thank you for censoring information."

"He won't thank me for this either," Scott said.

"Well, pick your poison," Alex said.

There was another pause.

"Thanks Alex," Scott said, "I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay," Alex said, "Good luck."

He hung up and looked outside. It was getting dark. He opened the door and walked out. Max immediately looked over at him and began reeling his kite in.

"Dinner time?" Max asked.

"Not quite, but it's time to get inside," Alex said.

"Aww, dad," Max said.

"No, it's time to get insi-" Alex began.

He paused and looked around. Alex knew that he was a little paranoid, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being watched. After a few seconds he saw a woman in black standing at the end of the street. She stiffened when he saw her, and he knew.

"Max, I want you to get inside," Alex said, "Right now. And I want you to find your mother."

"Dad?" Max asked, sounding scared.

"Max, I need you to do what I said," Alex said, "Everything's okay, but I want you to find your mother. Do you understand?"

Max swallowed and nodded. Alex watched the woman out of the corner of his eye as Max went back inside. Once he'd shut the door Alex walked up to the fence and crossed his arms. The woman walked closer, although she stopped a few steps from the fence.

It was good. If she'd come any closer Alex wasn't sure if he would've been able to stop from punching her. The only thing that stopped him from using his mutation on site was the thought of Lorna's reaction.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Alex asked.

Angel took off her hood and looked timidly at him.

"Was that your son?" she asked, "I...I didn't know you had a son. He's so old..."

Her voice was wistful, almost disconnected. Alex hardened his gaze.

"I repeat, what the hell are you doing here?" Alex said.

Angel blinked and looked at him. She clasped her hands in front of her.

"I'd like to see Lorna," she said, "If, well, if that's an option."

Alex tilted his head.

"It's been ten years," he said, "why the hell are you here now?"

"I think that that's my question."

Alex turned his head as Lorna walked into the yard. She looked over at Alex and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Alex, could you give me a few minutes?" she asked.

Alex gritted his teeth. He didn't want to leave his wife in the yard with Angel. For all he knew she was a distraction for Magneto to come and try to take his daughter back. Ten years might have passed, and he might have ignored the news of Max and Luna, but Alex didn't pretend to fathom how his mind worked.

"It'll be okay," Lorna said.

Her voice was pleading. He swallowed.

"I'll be just inside if you need me," Alex said.

He gave a final look at Angel and his wife before stepping inside the house, his heart pounding wildly.

* * *

Lorna stared at Angel for a few minutes. The last time she'd seen Angel she'd broken her nose. She could still see where Angel's nose was a little crooked. They hadn't exchanged words since even longer when she'd freed Lorna to go to the X-men, to go to Alex.

Now she was standing in her front yard, looking uncomfortable and frightened. Lorna didn't know what to think.

"Angel," she said.

"Lorna," Angel said.

Angel didn't make a move towards her. Instead she looked towards the house.

"It took me a while to find you," Angel said.

Lorna tried to swallow some of the hurt she felt.

"I was at Westchester for several years," Lorna said, "I wasn't hard to find."

"I wouldn't be welcomed there," Angel said, "And...I wanted to give you your space, time to let them trust you."

"But you didn't come when...when I had my son," Lorna said.

"I didn't know you had a son," she said.

Lorna blinked.

"I...I asked Alex to tell my father," Lorna said.

"And I guess he did," Angel said, "But...no one told me. I only found out about your daughter because I overheard Emma and Mystique talking about Cyclops telling your father."

Lorna took a deep breath. From Angel's words she supposed that her father hadn't much cared about the news.

"I don't think they would've told me if I hadn't overheard," Angel said.

She shrugged.

"I was always rather forgettable in the Brotherhood," Angel said.

"Not to me," Lorna said.

Angel smiled sadly.

"Helping out with you was the only thing I was halfway decent at," Angel said, "And it turned out that I didn't do such a great job with that either."

"Angel, you did a good job," Lorna said, "You know that wasn't why I left."

Angel just shrugged. She looked at the house.

"Is your daughter in there too?" she asked.

"Yes," Lorna said, "My children's names are Maximilian and Luna. We call Maximilian Max."

"Makes sense," Angel said, "And...and Alex is good to you?"

Her voice sounded desperate. Lorna smiled softly.

"Yes," she said, "He's amazing."

"Good," Angel said, "Good."

She looked at the house, still disbelieving. Angel suddenly turned her head away.

"How did you do it?" she said.

"What?" Lorna said.

"You didn't just leave the Brotherhood," Angel said, "You left the X-men too, found your place in a world that hates and fears us. How on earth did you do that?"

Lorna realized that Angel was crying. She moved forwards, only to have Angel take a step back.

"How?" Angel said.

Although her heart was breaking, Lorna could only shrug. She didn't have any answers.

"One step at a time," she said.

Angel smiled.

"I suppose if anyone could have figured that out, it would have been you," she said.

"It's not hard to figure out Angel," Lorna said.

Her voice was a plea. Out of all of them, Angel was the one who had been closest to understanding. She supposed it was because, out of any of them, Angel was the least set in her ways. Lorna hoped that she could understand what it meant to leave something like the Brotherhood or the X-men behind and start on a new journey.

"It's just a little difficult to do sometimes," Lorna said.

Angel nodded. She looked at the house again.

"I'm glad you're happy, Lorna," Angel said, "I'm glad you have a great husband and children and a nice house. I heard about what it is you do now, and I'm glad that you're doing that too. I think..."

Angel hesitated.

"I know it's not the life that your father wanted for you," Angel said, "But...but..."

Lorna gripped the fence. She had the feeling that she knew what was coming.

"But I think that it was the life your mother would have wanted you to have," Angel said.

Lorna stifled a sob then. She reached across the fence and pulled Angel into a hug before Angel could push her away. Angel was stiff for a moment before she wrapped her arms around Lorna's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," Angel said, "So sorry..."

"It's not your fault it's this way," Lorna said.

She thought of her father, thought of the way he dropped her to the ground, his cruel words. She hadn't even seen him on the combat field like she'd seen Angel. It all felt like it was too much to handle.

"I was there at your wedding you know," Angel said, "I just...I wanted to give you space and I was so ashamed..."

"I wish you'd said something," Lorna said, squeezing her eyes shut tighter, "It would have meant so much."

"I'm sorry," Angel said.

She heard Angel take in a deep breath.

"Your father was there too."

Lorna pulled back slightly. It felt like a cold hand had gripped her heart.

"What?" she asked.

"Your father was there," Angel said, "I think you should know that, for what it's worth. He didn't, he um, he didn't really say anything. Not to me...but..."

But it had meant something that he'd been there. Lorna felt something stir inside her, something warm and sad. She breathed in.

"Thank you for telling me," she said.

She paused and looked at the house. Lorna knew that Alex was there, watching to make sure she wasn't suddenly ambushed.

"Do you want to see the children?" she asked.

Angel stared at her.

"Won't Alex-" she asked.

"He'll understand," Lorna said, "Come on. Don't you want to see them?"

For a moment Angel just looked at the house, and Lorna didn't think she would accept. She felt her heart sink, and then Angel nodded.

"More than anything," Angel whispered.


	29. Chapter 29

April 17, 1985

Angel took a deep breath as she crept back into the Brotherhood installation. Everything she did seemed too loud. She could feel her heart pounding, the sweat trickling down her neck, her hair sticking to her forehead.

Taking another breath she climbed up the stairs into her room. With trembling hands she began to pack. It was depressing how little she had to pack, but it was better that way. She didn't know how much time she had, and she knew that travelling light was the better option.

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Angel tiptoed down the stairs, looking around. The fear had reached a fever pitch. Part of her screamed that she should go back to her room, put the bag under her bed, and leave dreams of starting a new life far, far behind.

However, she'd seen Lorna. Angel had never been very brave, but seeing Lorna again had given her back a sliver of the bravery that had led her to free her. She squared her shoulders and finished walking down the stairs.

"Going somewhere?"

Angel whipped around. Magneto sat in an arm chair, his cold eyes fixed on hers.

"You're back early," she managed.

"Sometimes things do go according to plan," he said.

Angel didn't say anything. Magneto continued to look at her as though she were something unpleasant he'd found beneath his shoe, something he was considering crushing. Her grip on her bag faltered.

The silence stretched out. Angel vaguely wondered if he wanted her to turn around meekly and go back upstairs. Again, she felt the urge to just do so, to just give up. She felt like crying. Why had she even come back?

Once more she felt that small sliver of bravery inside her. She grasped it eagerly.

"Well, if you have nothing else to say," Angel said.

She began to walk towards the door. Angel watched in dismay as the metal locks began to slam shut.

"You're not leaving," Magneto said.

Anger twined with the bravery, burning up inside her.

"Why not?" Angel said, "You always thought that I was useless."

"Not always," Magneto said, "But for the past several years, yes."

"Then let me go," she said.

"And have you betray us in exchange for a pardon?" Magneto said, "I think not."

Angel shifted her bag over her shoulder.

"What do I know that can hurt you?" she asked, "What have I ever, ever known?"

He continued to glare at her. The fear flared up again, but she shoved it away, angry.

"I need to leave," she said, "And I need to do it now."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Why?" Magneto said, "Why now?"

"Because I've seen a better life," Angel said.

His eyes narrowed further.

"Lorna's life," Angel said.

"Angel," Magneto said, his voice a cold warning.

She paid him no heed. Angel felt the words burst onto her tongue, and she was powerless to stop them.

"She's happily married, doing good things for mutants," Angel said, "She has two children-"

"Silence!" Magneto snarled, "She doesn't exist any more!"

For a moment Angel felt like she'd had the wind knocked out of her by the force of his voice. She fell back against the wall, but pushed herself away from it. Angel wondered if she was signing her own death warrant, but maybe it was time if this was what produced that signature.

"Don't you dare say that," Angel said.

Magneto stared. Angel stood up taller.

"She's more alive than ever, and I'm sorry if you can't stand that," Angel said, her hands clenching into fists, "I'm sorry that you pushed her away and threw her around and didn't listen. And yes, it hurts that she left and you're entitled to that hurt-"

Magneto had gotten to his feet and was coming closer to her. Her exits were barred: she was too far away from the stairs and the door was locked. The only option she had left was her words.

"-but your own goddamned stupidity is why I've seen your grandchildren and you haven't!"

Magneto's hand closed around her throat, lifting her into the air. Angel dropped her bag and began scrabbling at his hand with her own. She remembered how weak she was, how useless, and it appeared that was going to lead to her death.

It was a terrifying thought, now that she had the time to consider it. She had been going to stay in Alaska, perhaps figure out something she could do with herself. Lorna had invited her to live near them if she wanted to, although she knew that Lorna hadn't thought that she would take her up on it.

Angel hadn't planned on going there right away: she needed time first, time to think on what the next step was. She had never done that before, and Angel knew that things might have gone smoother for her if she had. It was only now that she saw what a dream it was, how intangible. Instead of reaching that dream she was going to die.

There was such a thing as going out with dignity though. Angel had started a fight, and she was going to finish it. She drew herself up, fighting for breath.

"And you...you might pretend you hate her..." Angel said, her words barely audible through his clenched hands, "But I'm not...that stupid...you love her even more than I do...and you did this. You...you did all of this...to her...to yourself..."

His fingers tightened.

"At least...make it quick," she managed, "You owe me...that."

Magneto snarled at her before dropping her to the ground. Angel hit her head hard and looked up, seeing stars.

"One upon a time," he said, his voice angry, "I told you that I wasn't going to discuss this with anyone, least of all someone like you."

Angel coughed.

"You mean someone who might've understood?" Angel said.

She coughed again and pushed herself up. Magneto was still glaring at her, although Angel thought she saw something else there.

"She wants you there you know," Angel said, rubbing her throat.

He turned his gaze away from her.

"I can't be," Magneto said, "Not without..."

Angel nodded, suddenly understanding. She didn't want to understand what he was feeling, but she did.

"Giving up the Brotherhood?" Angel asked, "But isn't she worth it?"

There was a long pause. Angel wondered if he was going to answer. As she waited she heard the metal bolts slide away from the door. Angel picked up her bag and headed towards it, her throat still hurting.

"For great causes, great sacrifices have to be made," Magneto said.

Angel paused in the doorway.

"Then maybe that's the curse of great men," Angel said, her voice bitter, "They lose everything that matters."

Without a glance behind her, Angel walked out the door.

* * *

"What?" David said.

Charles could feel his heart breaking as he looked at his son. Scott stood behind him, and Charles didn't want to look back at him. Not now. He knew that Scott had done the right thing by talking to him, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel angry.

"We can't put you on the X-men roster," Charles said.

David looked between Charles and Scott. His face still looked incredulous, the eyes of someone who is having a dream broken but can't quite believe it. Charles wanted to take it back right then, but his son's eyes were rimmed with red and he could see the dark circles there.

It just reminded him of why they were doing this.

"But...I'm going to be sixteen soon," David said, "I know that it's a little young, but most started on smaller missions when they were fifteen-"

"It's not an age issue," Scott said.

He heard Scott breathe in.

"It has to do with your abilities."

"My abilities?" David said in disbelief, "I have great times! I know I run as fast as Terry, and I...I mean, my telepathy isn't exactly the best combative power, but Jean's done fine, right?"

"Jean has done fine," Scott said, "But...Jean doesn't face the same problems that you do."

David's eyes narrowed and Charles wanted to reach for him, comfort him if he could. He knew the blow that was coming and David would need support, but the desk was between them. He began to maneuver out as David continued to stare at Scott.

"What the hell do you mean?" David asked.

"You know what I mean," Scott said, his voice calm, "It's not your fault, but don't think I haven't noticed when you have a flare up. You stumble, you trip, and Kurt is there to catch you and help you keep moving. He can afford to do that because it's a simulation. You can't do that sort of thing in the field."

Charles saw David clench his fists.

"I've got it under control," David said.

"David," Charles said.

He kept his voice gentle. David looked at him, his face full of pleading. Charles put his hand on his shoulder.

"What happened to you...I know that they won't ever truly be silenced," he said, "There's no 'getting it under control.' We both know this."

David took in a harsh breath.

"I can do it," he said.

"You've done well David, but I can't give you my endorsement to go on the team," Scott said, "If it was just a fluctuation in your powers, or if you weren't entirely comfortable with them, then that would be one thing. But this, this is permanent, and it's unstable. You would be a liability to everyone on your team, and I have to think about everyone."

David clenched his teeth.

"That's not your decision though," David said, "You're just field leader."

He turned and looked Charles in the eyes, still pleading.

"Dad, I've wanted to do this...forever," he said, "Please just give me a chance. I know that I can do this."

Charles looked at his son. For a moment he was tempted. David had been right: he'd wanted to be an X-man forever. He was dedicated to their cause. It could be good for him, just like the Danger Room sessions had given him a chance to focus.

Then he remembered his son's tired eyes, remembered hearing the vicious voices for himself. He'd seen David stumble a few times in the Danger Room too, seen him clutch his head. There were times when he knew that David just wanted to sit in a darkened room to try and quell his migraines.

Scott was right: they couldn't risk the safety of the rest of the team. More than that though, Charles couldn't risk David.

"I'm sorry," Charles said.

David's face fell and Charles saw something shatter deep inside. David shook Charles's hand off.

"You're always sorry," David said, "But you never mean it. If you did, then why hell would you have to keep apologizing?"

He got up, shoving his chair away from him.

"David, please understand," Charles tried, "It's unstable-"

"I'm not unstable!" David screamed.

In the back of the room several books fell off their shelves, slamming into the floor and the walls. David looked at them with something like fear and then winced. He pounded his forehead once more as he backed away towards the door.

"Fine," he said, his voice choked, "Fine. I'm unstable."

He laughed, the sound bitter.

"Forget it though," David said, "After all, it's not like there's anything you can do about it, right?"

"David-" Charles said.

"Don't," David said, "Just don't."

Still shaking his head David pushed open the door and stormed down the hall. Charles bowed his head.

"You did the right thing for the X-men," Scott said.

"I know," Charles said.

He sighed, trying to rid his mind of the image of his son's broken face. He doubted he would be able to.

"But I might have very well done the wrong thing for my son," he said.


	30. Chapter 30

January 20, 1986

Terry wiped the sweat off the back of her neck with a towel as she left the Danger Room. She'd been running simulations for most of the morning. She was exhausted, but she had managed to wipe the floor with Jaime and John. They might be her friends and teammates, but it still felt good.

She walked towards the observation deck. Her father was coming back in an hour, and she wanted to tell him her exact times. As she approached it she heard voices. Frowning she opened the door.

David was lying on his stomach, a notebook opened in front of him and a slide ruler off to one side. He was tapping it with a pencil, and another textbook was open further up. On their new video phone Terry could see Sharon on the other end at her father's desk, a textbook open on her end too. Unlike David, there was no slide ruler.

When she came in she saw that Kurt was in one of the chairs, drawing in a sketchbook. He sat up when she came in, but David didn't turn around and Sharon didn't look up.

"So, you see," Sharon said, "if you just use the impossible number as a placeholder, then it balances out quite nicely."

"Huh," David said, "I never thought of it like that."

"What are you two doing?" Terry asked.

Sharon looked up, startled. David just shrugged, still not looking around.

"Homework," he said, "What does it look like?"

"That's not what the video phone is for," Terry said.

David shrugged. Sharon sat up a little straighter.

"I wasn't sure how to tell him how to do this equation," she said.

Terry made a face.

"Aren't you thirteen?" she asked.

"Yes," Sharon said.

Terry looked at David.

"And you're sixteen," she said.

"We're in the same class," David said.

Terry couldn't help but raise her eyebrows. Last she'd checked David had been doing well in his classes. David rolled his eyes.

"She's really smart," David said, "So she's in the same class as me."

Sharon's eyes lit up on the other side of the video phone.

"I'm not so great at history," Sharon said, "And some literature, although I'm pretty good at poetry."

She looked down and smiled.

"And thanks to David I'm really great at Shakespeare," she said.

"I don't get any of that stuff," Kurt said.

Terry rolled her eyes.

"Regardless," she said, "this is for missions and emergencies and stuff. I don't think Uncle Hank or Scott would like it if they found out you were using it to do your homework."

"I told them not to," Kurt said.

David just shrugged. Sharon picked up her notebook.

"You won't tell, will you?" she asked, "I don't...I don't want to get in trouble. My dad has a lot going on."

Terry let her eyes slide over to David, waiting to hear what he had to say about the situation. He didn't say anything at all. Terry rolled her eyes again and looked back at Sharon. She seemed contrite enough, even if Terry had the feeling it was all an act.

"Don't do it again, okay?" Terry said.

David nodded and looked down to the next problem.

"How about the next one?" he said, "That one's pretty complicated."

"Not really," Sharon said.

Terry tuned them out and looked up her times on the computer. She grinned. They were pretty good, almost as good as Alex's when he was her age. She nodded to herself and switched off the computer.

"Did you find something good?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," Terry said, "I just found out that I'm pretty fast."

She saw Kurt grin at her. Terry knew that David and Kurt still did simulations, even though Scott and the Professor had denied David entry to the X-men over a year ago. She wasn't sure why that was, but she knew better than to ask.

The first time she'd seen David afterwards she'd made the mistake of asking how he was. The look he'd given her was so venomous that Terry had literally stepped back. She'd seen the raw anger and jealousy in his eyes and felt it burning into her.

She'd avoided him for weeks afterwards.

"We should race sometime," Kurt said, "I'm super-fast."

Terry nodded, although she didn't think that it would be much of a challenge to beat a twelve year old. Still, Kurt wasn't cocky like his brother. If he said that he was fast, he probably meant it on some level.

"We'll see," she said.

She glanced at her watch.

"I'm going to have to get going," she said.

She looked back at David and Sharon.

"You two remember what I said, okay?" she said.

"I will," Sharon said.

David nodded and moved his slide ruler a little. Terry shook her head and walked out of the observation deck. She wiped her face with her towel again as she headed towards the upper levels. She figured she had a little bit of time before her father arrived. Enough to take a shower anyway.

She wondered what he would make of her. At nineteen Terry was strong and tall, but she'd refused to cut her hair. It had been stressful lately, balancing being Siryn and taking college classes, but she was making it. It was one of the things she would have to talk to her father about.

"How's my favorite girl?"

Terry whipped around. Her father stood in the doorway, a duffel bag in his hand and looking exhausted. He dropped his bag just as she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"How's it going?" her father asked.

"Great," Terry said, pulling away slightly, "You're here early."

"Yeah, sometimes SHIELD clearances can get you some early flights," Sean said.

He looked at her.

"Had a few Danger Room sessions today?" he asked.

"Pretty much," Terry said, "I had some great times."

"Good," he said, "You're remembering to stay careful out there, right?"

"Of course dad," she said.

Terry coughed.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that," she said.

Her father cocked his head.

"Is this going to be a 'let's chat about it and get cookies,' or more of a 'we need to sit down and have an adult conversation' type of thing?" her father asked.

Terry couldn't help but smile.

"The second," she said.

Her father sighed.

"Yeah, there's never any time for cookies," he said, "Come on, let's go into the library."

Together they walked into the library. Her father sat in one of the arm chairs. Terry sat in one of the wooden ones, mindful of the fact that she was still sweaty. Her father didn't seem to care, but she knew that other people might.

"I'm about halfway through my first year of college right now," she said, "And I'm taking administrative law classes and everything."

"I know," her father said.

"And um, I was wondering how you would feel if I said that I only wanted to pursue my associate's degree," Terry said, "Not my bachelor's."

Her father looked at her for a moment, his brows pursing together.

"Are you on track for it?" he asked.

"Yes," Terry asked.

"Alright," her father said, "Then I guess that the only other question I want answered is, well, why?"

Terry took a deep breath. This had been the part she'd been dreaded.

"After I get my associate's, I wanted to join SHIELD," she said.

Her father's eyes widened. Terry quickly moved in. She didn't know how he'd react.

"I'm tough, and I'm pretty good at adapting to situations," she said, "If I have my degree, then I think that I'll be able to back up my field experience with, well, education. I know that you took a few courses before you went into Interpol-"

"Terry, I went into Interpol to get away," her father said, "Not because I wanted to."

Terry swallowed. Her father had told her the whole story about what had happened with him and her mother when she was younger. As such she knew about the years where he'd wandered, feeling lost and confused. Then he had found her, and life had changed.

She clasped her hands.

"I know," she said, "But I want to join SHIELD. I know you know the right people to contact."

"I do, yes," he said, "But...well, Terry, why?"

He reached over and took her clasped hands.

"You don't have to do this to impress me," he said, "You've already impressed me just by being who you are."

Terry couldn't help but feel a warm glow inside of her when she heard that. It had been twelve years since she had been under the care of a man who had terrorized her, made her believe that no one would care about her, and she would lose those that did.

From there she had been swept into a life with her father, a man who was dedicated to making her life good, to making her happy. It had almost been to much for her at times. Although she had grown used to her father's kind ways and love, there was still a small part of her that was surprised whenever he told her he loved her or was proud of her.

"It's not about impressing you," Terry said, "I mean, I'd be wrong if I said that I wasn't, in some way or another, trying to follow in your footsteps-"

"SHIELD wasn't exactly my first choice," her father said.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Terry said, "But, honestly? I admire what you do, mostly because you help everyone. Not just mutants."

Her father frowned and opened his mouth. Terry cut him off.

"I'm not saying that everyone here is doing something wrong," Terry said, "Our kind needs its champions, you know? I mean, I've seen and heard enough about that to know that it does. I'm an X-man for crying out loud."

Her father nodded and the corners of his mouth turned up.

"But I think that I could use my gifts to help everyone," she said, "And...there are still people like Black Tom out there."

The name was difficult to force from her lips. Her father clasped her hands tighter.

"And I think that people like that, no matter if they're mutants or not, need to be stopped," she said, "They need someone to tell them that enough is enough. I think that what I really want to be is some sort of law officer, but on a much larger scale. I wasn't taught to fight people like a cop, someone who has to follow a strict set of rules."

She shrugged.

"I think that I was taught to act more like a SHIELD agent," she said.

"We have rules too," her father said.

"I know," Terry said, "But not the same ones as everyone else, right?"

Her father smiled.

"And you wouldn't consider a safer career, like maybe the CIA?" he asked.

"The CIA is safer?" Terry asked.

"They tend not to deal with meta humans," her father said.

Terry laughed softly.

"No dad," she said, "I think that SHIELD is a pretty good fit for me."

Her father didn't say anything for awhile. He sighed and looked down at her hands.

"Terry, I've already lost you once," he said, "And I was nervous when you joined the X-men..."

She bit her lip.

"...but you really can take care of yourself," he said, "And...I just want to make sure that you're not entering into this decision lightly."

Terry looked up, feeling her hopes rise.

"I'm not," she said.

"Okay," her father said.

He hugged her, holding her tightly. Terry held him back, remembering the first time she had hugged her father when she was seven. Looking back, she had no idea how she had managed to survive without his love and support.

"You're going to be on my team in the beginning for observation," he said, "Just so you know."

"I'm okay with that," Terry said, smiling.


	31. Chapter 31

August 17, 1986

"Could you pass the potatoes?" Kurt asked.

"Seriously Kurt?" Moira asked, laughing, "This is fourths for you."

Kurt shrugged, his tail wagging behind him.

"I'm growing," he said.

"Not that fast," David said, "Do you think that's a secondary mutation or something? 'Cause if I ate like you I'd be fat, but nothing fazes you."

Kurt laughed. He looked over at the potatoes and then at Moira. Charles glanced at his wife, but she didn't make a move towards the plate.

"You're not getting fourths," Moira said, "I'm not going to have you getting sick later."

"Awww," Kurt said.

"Don't aww me," Moira said.

Kurt frowned, and then his face lit up. He teleported to the other side of the room. He reached for the potatoes but Charles moved them away.

"Kurt, no teleporting at the table," he said.

"But dad!" Kurt said.

"No buts," Charles said, "Now, go back to your seat and eat civilized portions."

"I'm not civilized," Kurt mumbling.

"No mumbling now," Moira said

Kurt crossed his eyes and David laughed from the other side of the table. Charles chuckled quietly to himself. Despite their best efforts their youngest son was turning into something of a comedian. He wondered what had happened to the quiet baby who rarely cried. This jubilant Kurt was somehow more fitting though.

He looked across the table. Charles knew that life could get busy, but he'd always tried to make it to dinner with his family after the incident with Sinister. Life was too precious to squander. For the past few years he hadn't missed a single dinner, except when he'd been away at a conference with Moira.

In the past the table had been more crowded: Alex and Lorna had always come down with Max. Sometimes it had just been Max or they'd had a family dinner, but they were often together. Scott and several of the X-men would eat with them on occasion too.

Alex and Lorna were in Alaska with their children though, and the X-men were busy. For that night, it was just the Xaviers.

"How's school going?" Moira asked.

"Great!" Kurt said, "We're learning about Egyptian mummifications. They used to stick this thing up people's noses and-"

"Not at the table," Charles said.

"Mom asked," Kurt said.

Moira laughed.

"And you David?" she asked.

David shrugged.

"It's okay," he said.

"Just okay?" Moira said.

"Mr. Guthrie tells me that you've gotten the best grades in the class for your past few papers," Charles said.

David looked up and shrugged again.

"It wasn't a big deal. I've had a lot of practice with Shakespeare," he said.

Charles smiled, remembering how David and Sharon always poured over Shakespeare texts whenever she was over. He wondered what that was about, but it seemed to be some sort of secret between the two children. He didn't begrudge them their secrets. He knew that Hank would enjoy being able to discuss the bard's literature with his daughter.

It appeared that David's grades were also becoming better as a result. It was a win-win situation for everyone.

"It's the closest thing the snobby literary world has to Tolkien anyway," David said.

"David," Charles said.

"No, he's right," Moira said.

He looked at his wife and she tilted her head.

"Love, we both know I'm not exactly classically inclined," she said, "I might enjoy reading it, doesn't mean I get it."

She looked over at Kurt.

"Right?" she said.

Kurt nodded.

"Half of what Shakespeare says doesn't make sense," he said.

"Alright," Charles said, "I see that I'm clearly outnumbered here."

"More of a fifty-fifty split," David said.

Charles smiled and looked back at David.

"I hear that you're taking an interest in the law now though," he said, "Miss Mahn said that you were considering going into college for it."

Moira put her fork down.

"It might be a little early to be talking about that," she said.

"Perhaps, but it's only two years away," Charles said, "I was just curious what David had to say about that, if it was true or not."

David paused for a minute, looking down at his food. He seemed to be concentrating on something, and Charles was wondering if he'd somehow asked the wrong question.

"I want to be an acrobat," Kurt said.

Charles looked over at his younger son, who had put his fork down like his mother.

"Really?" Moira said, "You do enough gymnastics as it is."

"That's why I'd be good at it," Kurt said.

He got up on his chair and waved his hands in the air.

"Announcing the Incredible Nightcrawler!"

David looked away from his food and cocked his head at his little brother.

"It's a good name," Kurt said, "Sounds cool."

"Kurt, chairs are for sitting in, not standing on," Moira said.

Kurt flopped down in his chair.

"Okay. Dessert now?" he said.

"You're going to be sick," Moira said.

"Yeah dad, it's true," David said.

Charles smiled at his older son again, although he didn't like the way the words had come out of his mouth.

"Really," Charles said, "you want to be a lawyer?"

David tilted his head up. Charles immediately knew that there was something wrong with his expression. It was too dark, too tense.

"Well, it's not a bad second choice," he said, "Unless, of course, it turns out that I'm too unstable for that too."

Charles felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. A year had passed since he had first told David that he couldn't be part of the X-men. His son and him had had a few arguments about it, but he'd hoped that David understood.

He looked over at Moira, at the way that the smile had disappeared from her face.

"David," Charles said, "We talked about this."

"We didn't, no," David said, "You told me about this, but you can say that we discussed it if it makes you feel better."

He leaned over the table.

"Does it make you feel better dad?" David asked, "Because it sure as hell doesn't make me feel better to know I'm too batshit for the X-men."

"David, not at the table," Moira said.

He glanced over at her, his look indifferent.

"Fine, whatever you say mom," he said, "Let's talk about pie then. Is that an acceptable subject?"

"I'd like to talk about pie," Kurt said.

His voice was far away and a little scared. David blinked and stared at Kurt, as though suddenly remembering he was in the room. David touched his head briefly and looked around the table again, still blinking.

"I'm...going upstairs," he said.

"David-" Charles tried.

"I need to go upstairs, okay?" David snapped.

He shoved his chair away from the table and hurried out of the dining room. Charles stared after him for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Kurt said.

Charles opened his eyes. Kurt was looking between him and Moira with wide eyes.

"Can I go to my room?" he asked.

Moira reached out and brushed some stray hairs out of Kurt's face.

"Of course you can," she said.

Kurt nodded. A moment later there was a flash of black smoke, and his younger son was gone. For a few moments Charles and Moira sat in silence, neither of them saying anything. Charles could only stare down at the table, feeling tired.

"I thought that he would be better by now, but it's bad, isn't it Charles?" Moira asked.

"I took away his dream," Charles said, "I don't think that he's going to forgive me for that any time soon."

Moira looked down at the table.

"You really can't put him on the team, can you?" she asked.

"Aren't you the one who didn't want him on the team?" Charles asked.

His voice was weak, and he knew Moira would understand how he meant it. Somehow she always seemed to understand.

"I never knew just how much he wanted it," Moira said, "I just...I still don't want our sons to be soldiers Charles. But, like I said, I'm not naïve either. I know why they would want to fight, and after their Danger Room sessions I know that they would be good at it."

She bowed her head.

"I'd rather see him as a lawyer personally," Moira said, "But, how he's acting now, well, he was really devoted to the X-men. And...I think that he thought that you would approve."

Charles swallowed.

"I would have too," Charles said, "But what happened when he was twelve changed things."

Moira nodded, although she still didn't meet his eyes.

"It's never going to go away for him," she said.

There was no question in her voice. Charles ran his hands through his hair. He knew that it would be gone soon, and had considered shaving it off and just saving the slow decline that he knew was coming. However, for now it was still there.

"I don't know how much he hears them," Charles said, "I know that he hears them enough for it to be traumatic though. I thought that letting him into the Danger Room would be an outlet, but all it did was get his hopes up."

"You didn't know it would affect his ability to use his mutation," Moira said.

"But I should have," Charles said, "It's all pain for him, and I can't help him with any of it."

He covered his eyes.

"I thought that, if I would fail anyone, it would be Kurt," Charles said, "Fail him when he found out he was adopted. But I failed David instead."

"You didn't fail him," Moira said.

He dug his fingernails into his head.

"Really?" he said, "I failed to help him with his telepathy, failed to protect him at the hotel, failed to get those monsters out of his head, and now I've failed him with the X-men. Moira..."

Charles took a shuddering breath.

"I've failed him as a father," he said, "He has every right to hate me."

"That's not true!" Moira said.

He looked up as Moira walked over to him. She put her hands on his shoulders.

"Charles, there are things that we couldn't see coming, and sometimes we can't protect our children," she said, "But sometimes that's part of being a parent."

"Not all children hate their parents," Charles said.

"He doesn't hate you," Moira said, "He's hurting and angry, and you're the only target right now. It doesn't mean anything. It's...it's..."

She put her hand on his forehead. It felt cool and soothing against his burning skin.

"It's part of growing up," she said.

"No, it isn't," Charles said, "Not like this."

"No, not quite like this," Moira said.

A hint of a smile crossed her face. Charles leaned his head against her stomach. One of her hands cupped his face.

"But Charles, these aren't ordinary circumstances," she said.

"No, but I haven't exactly risen to them," Charles said.

"You love David, and one day he'll understand the truth of why you kept him off the X-men," Moira said, "He might just resent it now, but in time he'll understand."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She gave him a small smile.

"You weren't worried about the team being hurt," she said, "Not as much as you were worried about David."

Charles swallowed.

"All we can do as parents is try as hard as we can to make things work, to do our best for our children," Moira said.

"And if our best isn't good enough?" Charles asked.

Moira took her hands off his face and knelt beside him. He looked over at her face, worn from the cares that had come over the past few years. He could see a few strands of gray in her auburn hair as age took its toll.

The spirit that looked back at him through her eyes was undimmed though.

"It will be Charles," she said, "It will be."

He felt tears run down his face as he pulled her to him.

"I love you Moira," he said.

"I love you too Charles," she said.


	32. Chapter 32

June 3, 1987

"Dad?"

Hank turned around, his hand still tightly holding Carly's. He'd come down there to talk to her for a little bit, as he often did. Sharon was standing behind him, already dressed for bed. He smiled at her, feeling exhausted. It had been a difficult few years, and he could feel the strain pushing down on him.

People were getting more and more nervous about mutants. He supposed that it had come about because of the increased amount of mutants all over the world. Evolution was taking its toll. The United States seemed like it was quite a battle in and of itself, although he was in contact with several friends who were fighting for equality across the world. It wasn't going to be easy anywhere.

People were now starting to question whether or not it was safe to have so many mutants in the population, walking around anonymously. Hank tried to shut down such discussions. He didn't like where they were going, where they could lead in the future.

More than that, he was starting to face some staunch opposition. The Friends of Humanity had been effectively shut down, but there were other people who were fighting him now. It was more than a faction though: he could see that it was a deep-rooted belief in these people's eyes that they were fighting for their constituents' safety, as well as their own.

He was glad that his daughter was with him through it all. It wasn't the best environment to raise a child in, but she was safely by his side. He could protect her if she was with him, and she was with him in every press conference now, at almost every function that he went to.

Carly was asleep, her support lost to whatever force was keeping her from him. She had been such a constant in his life that it felt like someone had physically removed a part of him when the coma had claimed her. However, all he had to do was look at his daughter to find the strength to carry on. He was trying to change the world for her after all, and Carly wouldn't have wanted him to give up.

He looked at his daughter. Sharon had shot up when she reached fourteen, her white mane grown to her hips. He couldn't even see where the explosion had burned off so much of it when she was nine. All of her burns had healed, her blossoming mutation taking care of injuries that should have scarred.

She was doing well in her schoolwork. Her teachers told him that she was advanced, taking senior classes in several subjects. Sharon worked hard and made great friends, always striving for more and taking an interest in politics and the arts.

He wished that Carly could see her.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I was just going to tell you that I was going to bed," she said, "I finished chatting to David-"

"Using the regular phone or the video one?" Hank asked.

Sharon winced.

"So you figured that out?" she asked.

"You left it on once," Hank said.

"Oh," Sharon said, "Sorry."

He shook his head.

"Don't be. That's what the phone's for, to help people talk," Hank said.

"So you're not mad?" Sharon said.

"No," Hank said, "Just ask me next time."

"I will," she said.

Sharon smiled and looked down at the ground, moving her feet.

"How are things at Westchester?" he asked.

"Fine," Sharon said.

She fidgeted slightly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She fidgeted again.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just...have something to tell you," she said.

"Oh?" Hank asked.

Sharon continued to look at the ground.

"Remember how I told you that I had senses that were kind of...strong?" she asked.

"Of course," Hank said, "How could I forget that?"

Sharon looked up and smiled nervously.

"I uh, did this in the mirror this morning," she said.

Hank frowned. A moment later Hank watched as Sharon's ears morphed into that of a cat. White fur started to slowly grow over her face. His eyes widened and, in a flash, it all disappeared. His daughter looked at him, still nervous.

"I can't do it for very long," she said, "But, well, I can do it."

"I see," Hank said.

He patted the chair next to him. Sharon sat down into it, still looking awkward.

"We're going to have to explore this a little further," he said, "I didn't foresee this."

"But it's okay, right?" Sharon said.

Hank laughed and gestured at himself.

"Sharon, how could I not think that it was okay?" Hank said, "It doesn't matter what you look like or what you can do. I still love you. Me and..."

He tilted his head towards Carly.

"...me and your mother," he said, "And if you're a little different, well, what of it? Kurt and David are a little different, and they're fine boys."

Sharon smiled, showing her eyeteeth. She still looked nervous though.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh nothing," Sharon said, "Not really, I mean, you're right, David and Kurt and Terry and everyone are mutants. I knew I was one too, but I wasn't expecting...it's just...it's just...it feels weird."

Hank reached out and touched her shoulder.

"I know Sharon," he said, "But in time you'll understand more about this, what your boundaries are, and what you can do. It'll just become a part of you."

Her head tilted up and her eyes met his.

"And don't worry: I'll be with you every step of the way," Hank said.

Sharon's eyes briefly filled up with tears.

"Thanks dad," she whispered.

Hank smiled. Sharon looked back down at the floor.

"I guess I should be going to bed now," she said.

"Right," Hank said.

Her eyes slid over to the book by her mother's bedside.

"Unless you want to read some _Midsummer's Night Dream_ out loud," she said, "I think that I do a pretty good Puck."

"It's getting a little late," Hank said.

"Come on," Sharon said, "It's not like it's a school night."

"No, it isn't," Hank said, "But it won't be good for you to stay up for too long."

"I know, I know," Sharon said.

He sighed.

"Fine," he said.

She picked up the book that Carly had given him for Christmas over fifteen years ago and thumbed her way to _A Midsummer's Night Dream_. So much had changed since then, but that book, and her words to him, had survived through it all. He could still remember the words.

_To the man who needs more laughter in his life. Comedies are more poignant than tragedies, no matter what._

He took his hand off Sharon's shoulder and swallowed.

"Just the ending monologue mind you," he said, "And then it's straight off to bed."

Sharon laughed and found the appropriate page. She cleared her throat and began reading.

"If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber'd here, while these visions did appear."

* * *

"And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream..."

The words seemed to be coming from far away, almost as though someone were gently whispering them in her ear. Carly knew what they were, and she had heard them before many times, both before and after she had met her husband.

She had read them first with her hands, the small variations in the paper giving her clues to what the words were. She had heard them spoken, heard the passion and the mystery in every word.

"...gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: and, as I am an honest Puck..."

The voice whispering them now was different though. It seemed familiar, but Carly wasn't quite sure if she could place it. It seemed so mature, yet so youthful, spoken as though the reader were actually Puck.

Curiosity burned within her. She tried to open her eyes, to see who it was, but her eyelids felt so heavy, and she felt so tired.

"...if we have unearned luck now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, we will make amends ere long..."

Carly wanted to fall asleep. She'd been asleep a few moments before, she was sure of that, but she wasn't sure why she had been asleep. Carly could vaguely remember an explosion. Why would she be asleep after that? Carly didn't think that could be good.

She picked a few stray memories. If she concentrated she could remember the way that Hank had called to her, the way she had held Sharon close as the heat started to surround them. A dull sense of panic set in.

"...else the Puck a liar call..."

She felt frustrated. She knew the monologue so well, but for some reason she couldn't participate in it. It was maddening. It was getting fainter too, almost as though whoever was reading it was getting further and further away.

It was linked to the panic she felt inside her when she thought about the fire. Carly knew it.

"...so, good night unto you all."

Her tongue fought with her and Carly struggled to break free. She knew she should go back to sleep, but something was telling her not to. Carly needed to join in with the voice and finish the monologue, to hear it end.

Someone, or something, was trying to stop her. She didn't know why, but she wasn't about to let it. Carly didn't want to sleep anymore, didn't want to rest for any longer. Something told her that she had already been resting for too long.

"Give me your hands, if we be friends..."

Her eyes opened. The room was still blurry, but she could see a blue swirl and another figure, this one hunched over a book.

"...and Robin shall restore amends," Carly whispered.

She blinked and the figures started to come into focus. Carly heard a book drop to the floor. When she blinked again she saw a young girl, her hands held in front of her as though they had been holding a book. Her slitted eyes were wide, and her mouth was open.

Carly felt confused. The girl looked like Sharon, but she was much, much too old to be Sharon. Sharon was only nine. Yet, it was Sharon. She knew it was her. Who else had slitted eyes and white hair?

She blinked again and the other figure came into focus. Her husband was staring at her as though she'd risen from the dead. It scared her a little.

"Hank?" she managed, "Sharon?"

In a flash the two of them were by her side. Hank was squeezing her hand and rapidly moving his other hand over some machines. His eyes were fixed on hers, and she could feel herself held in the thrall of his gold eyes.

Sharon's arms were wrapped around her waist. She was sobbing and Carly, with great difficulty, lifted her hand and placed it onto Sharon's head. She knew then that this girl, a girl who was on the verge of womanhood, was her tomboyish daughter.

The thought filled her with another wave of panic. How long had she been asleep? She looked to Hank, ready to ask and still feeling disoriented, and then his lips came down on hers, warm and sweet.

She sighed into his kiss, one of his hands cradling her head. Carly blinked up at him as he pulled away. She saw that he'd started to cry too. Carly could feel tears gathering in her own eyes.

"How...how long...?" she managed.

"It doesn't matter," Hank said.

"You're here now," Sharon said, "I've missed you. I've missed you so much mom."

More tears found their way out of Carly's eyes. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but her family was right. It would matter later, she knew, but for now she just needed the two of them.

"I've missed you too," Carly whispered, "Both of you. So much."

Hank sat on the side of her bed and put his head on top of hers.

"It's alright," he said, "We're all together again.'


	33. Chapter 33

May 19, 1988

"So, let me get this straight," David said, looking over Kurt's course selection form, "You're taking two languages next year?"

Kurt nodded as he finished up with the final portions of his sketch. He'd hoped to turn it into a painting later. When he'd first started it he'd thought that the way the curtains fluttered in the breeze from his open window would do for a light good study. He quite liked it as a sketch though, and he thought that it should probably stay that way.

David sat down at the foot of Kurt's bed as Kurt put away his sketch book. His brother straightened his blazer before Kurt spoke.

"Yeah," Kurt said, "I'm a bit behind on my middle school language classes, but that means that I need to get all of my credits during high school."

"You're all good for your electives though," David said, "How many art classes have you taken? Probably more than me and Terry combined. And that's elementary, high school, and Terry's college courses."

Kurt flashed his teeth.

"I couldn't help it," Kurt said.

"Right, right," David said, "So what exactly was your thinking with taking Spanish and German? I know that they're both technically Romance languages, but they're not that similar. It's going to be difficult."

"Well," Kurt said, "I figured that Spanish would probably be useful in the future if I wanted to go to any of the Southern states. I hear they've got a big Hispanic population."

"Yeah, since the Mariel," David said.

"Right," Kurt said.

David cocked his head.

"Planning on moving to Florida?" he asked.

"No," Kurt said, "But it couldn't hurt if I wanted to visit Calvin and Clarice."

"Okay," David said, "And German?"

Kurt leaned back on his heels.

"I dunno," he said, "I just think that it would be fun to visit Germany one day. That's all."

He shrugged.

"I didn't see any reason to take Latin, unlike some people," he said.

David laughed.

"Well, you need to know Latin for the law," David said, "Or at least it helps."

Kurt smiled, but he felt his heart beat a little faster. He leaned forward a little more on his heels.

"Did you uh, hear back from any of the colleges that you applied to?" he asked.

David cocked his head. He pulled one of his legs onto the bed and laid his arm over his knee. David smiled slightly.

"As a matter of fact I did," David said, "A couple of them got back to me really, but I'd been waiting for this one."

He reached inside his blazer and pulled out an envelope that had already been opened. Kurt couldn't quite make out the college shield on it, but the paper looked expensive and the return address had been handwritten.

"And?" Kurt asked.

David held the envelope out to him. Kurt took it and opened it. He began reading the first line, his jaw dropping.

"You got accepted?" he asked.

David nodded. Kurt's eyes widened as he looked over the letter.

"It looks like it," David said.

He held out his hands.

"Was there any doubt?" David asked.

"Of course not, but Yale?" Kurt said, "I didn't even know that you applied."

"Aim high," David said.

He gave his brother a thumbs up and sat on the edge of his bed. Kurt looked over the letter again once and looked up, his face glowing.

"Do mom and dad know?" Kurt said.

David hesitated, and then shook his head.

"Nah, they don't know yet," he said.

"You told me first?" Kurt asked.

"Yep," David said.

Kurt's mouth opened slightly. He couldn't believe it. He looked back down at the envelope, something which held the deciding vote in his brother's future. It was everything his parents had been educating them for, and he'd given it to Kurt first.

David reached out and ruffled Kurt's hair.

"Because you'd just snoop around until you found out," David said, "I can just picture you going through my stuff."

Kurt shoved David's hand off, grinning. He was fourteen, too old to have his hair ruffled. Still, he couldn't find it in him to be irritated about it.

"You're the eavesdropper," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," David said, "Well this eavesdropper just got into Yale."

"This is amazing David," Kurt said.

He stuffed the letter back in the envelope and handed it to David.

"Mom and dad are gonna be so proud," Kurt said.

David's face faltered for a moment as he took the envelope back.

"Yeah," he said.

Kurt bit the inside of his lip, feeling uneasy. He knew that his brother had issues with his father. Despite living in the same house, Kurt wasn't sure that he knew enough about the situation to comment on it. His brother was a closed book when it came to his relationship with their father, and Kurt was a little scared to open it. It was something that he knew would have to be dealt with one day, and Kurt didn't know how it would all go down.

Then again, David had been the one who had cut their hands and told him that they were blood brothers on the worst day of his life. Surely Kurt could do something for him, help him somehow. He'd just have to figure out how.

"Because you're awesome," Kurt said.

David nodded and tucked the envelope back inside his blazer.

"Obviously," David said.

His brother got up from the bed and looked out the window. Kurt watched him for a few minutes, his brother's face blank.

"Do you remember getting our kite stuck up in that tree?" David asked.

"Huh?" Kurt asked.

"Our kite," David said, "It got stuck and we had Sharon get it down for us."

"Oh, that," Kurt said, "I remember."

He slid off his bed.

"Have you talked to Sharon recently?" he said.

"Not as much as I used to," David said.

He sounded a little wistful. Even though Sharon was closer to Kurt in age, she had always been closer to David. Kurt figured it was because the two of them were smarter than him, although he knew that Sharon was actually smarter than David.

He'd never tell his brother that though.

"Then again, things have been crazy since her mother woke up again," David said, "She's trying you know."

"I know," Kurt said.

David leaned up against the wall.

"Time just seems to pass really fast," he said.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.

David shook his head.

"Nothing I guess," he said.

He leaned his head against the wall and crossed his arms.

"Kurt, do you have any plans for this summer?" he asked.

Kurt blinked.

"No," he said.

"Oh, I was just wondering...it might be stupid..." David said.

"Come on, say it Yale man," Kurt said.

David laughed and pushed himself away from the wall. He took his seat at the foot of Kurt's bed again. His eyes slid from Kurt to the top of the bed.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a road trip this summer," David said.

Kurt felt himself stiffen. David was still looking at the bed, so he didn't notice.

"You mean...where do you want to go?" Kurt asked.

"I dunno," David said, "Maybe somewhere we haven't been before. Yeah, somewhere kind of far away. Maybe we can just go down the East Coast."

His brother's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Going down the East Coast. All the way to Florida or something," he said, "You and me."

He looked up and Kurt felt himself stiffen anymore. David's face fell a little.

"Kurt, is something wrong?" he asked.

Kurt bit his lip.

"No..." he said.

He winced. His tone didn't sound even relatively convincing.

"I'm sure it'll go through," David said, "I'm sure that I can get mom and dad to agree, especially in the light of this."

He tapped his pocket where the envelope was.

"I just think that it might be good to get away from New York for a while," he said.

Kurt swallowed.

"David, I've never been outside of New York," he said.

His brother froze, and then slowly nodded.

"No, you haven't," he said.

"I just...people have issues with me when I go out there," Kurt said.

David looked at him, his lips pressed together.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," he said.

"I know," Kurt said, "But..."

He remembered the stares and the hushed whispers when he'd gone to New York City for the first time. He still remembered how he wanted to just hide behind his parents and David, to shrink and dissolve into the ground.

"David, they make me uncomfortable," he said.

His brother nodded.

"Okay Kurt," he said, "I won't force you to do anything."

Kurt felt relieved. He leaned back, but his brother's mouth opened and he knew that he wasn't finished yet.

"But do you want to hide here all your life?" he said, "I mean, maybe you want to work here or something when you're older, but sooner or later you're going to have to step outside of Westchester again."

David looked away.

"It might be difficult," he said, "But it's going to happen. Now, I want you to know that I'm not just saying this because I want to go on this road trip-"

"I understand," Kurt said.

"You're good about that," David said.

His brother took a deep breath.

"But, I've never been outside New York either," he said, "There's a whole world out there full of different places and people that we've never seen. And yeah, I know that it's easier for me to say because I'm not the one getting stared at, but it's true. And yeah, some of them are going to be assholes."

Kurt stifled a laugh. He couldn't help it. His brother grinned but kept looking at the window.

"But some people are going to be great," David said, "And we need to go out there and try to meet them. And there are some amazing things in the world, and we need to go out there and try to see them."

Kurt swallowed and looked back down at his bedding. He picked it up and dragged his fingers across the sheets. His brother hadn't asked much of him during his life, and now he was asking him to go on a trip together to explore the world.

He sat back and grasped his ankles. He didn't feel comfortable with the idea, but he had to admit that David was right. If he didn't get out and see the world now, when was he planning to do it? He was fourteen and he'd seen so little of the world he'd lived in, a world that had created a fabulous world of art and literature. He'd planned on visiting Germany one day, but that had been a vague idea.

Kurt had dreams, just like everyone had dreams. Those dreams included being an art teacher, finding beautiful landscapes to paint. He wanted to find people that he could sketch that would fit his idea of beauty: something that wasn't just physical attractiveness, but something within that seemed to show on the outside.

It was a fact of life that he wasn't going to find all of that just by staying at Westchester for his entire life. It was scary to leave, but he knew that he would have to at one point or another. Why not now, when he was poised to begin a new stage of his life? When him and his brother both were?

When he raised his eyes he saw that his brother looked resigned.

"You don't have to tell me how you feel right now," he said, "When you're ready-"

"Let's go," Kurt said.

David's eyes widened, and then a small smile crossed his face.

"You really want to?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kurt said.

He breathed in.

"It'll be fun," he said.


	34. Chapter 34

June 2, 1988

"David, I think you left the speed limit behind ten miles ago," Kurt mumbled.

David laughed. A small voice in the back of his head told him that, in all likelihood, Kurt was right. He could probably pull this kind of speed off on the highway, but they were in Boston now.

They had started the road trip at the end of May. So far they'd only made it as far as Boston, and without any incidents. Kurt still seemed shy because of his appearance, but David felt hopeful that the trip would be good for that.

He wasn't deluded enough to pretend that he was doing the trip for Kurt though. No, it was purely for him, and his brother was along to keep him company. It might have good effects for him too, but he needed Kurt to be there, needed someone he could trust.

David had been grateful that his parents had agreed to the idea, but he'd been sure to take it to his mother first. She'd been the one who told his father about it. He still had difficulty talking to his father, for more reasons than one.

They'd been a little hesitant, David was only eighteen after all, but they had trusted him in the end. He didn't know what to think about that. He'd expected that he was going to have a fight on his hands, having to argue that he was responsible enough to be trusted. It turned out that they had agreed after reviewing the route that he'd planned out.

There was no rush though: they were right on schedule, but David had scheduled a few days in for side trips. He really didn't have to speed. Without saying anything to his brother David slowed down a bit. He wasn't sure what he liked about the idea of driving at higher speeds: perhaps it was the fact that the rest of his life didn't offer much in the way of excitement. Not anymore.

_Not good enough for the freak murderers huh?_

David winced at the pressure in his head. He concentrated on the road, taking his foot off the gas pedal slightly. He turned a corner slowly and glanced over at Kurt, who seemed much more at ease now. He hadn't noticed anything.

"So, where are we going?" Kurt asked.

"I saw this place when I was planning the trip," David said, "I thought you would like it."

"And it is...?" Kurt asked.

David shook his head.

"Asking's against the rules," he said.

"I don't get why everything has to be a surprise," Kurt said.

"Because it does," David said, "And seeing how we're about fifteen minutes away, you can either sit there and sulk or try to play twenty questions."

Kurt leaned against the window.

"I think we're getting a little old for that," he said.

"Okay. You can just let the suspense kill you," David said.

There was silence. David knew that Kurt would eventually cave and ask him, no matter how irritated he became. Kurt's curiosity was insatiable. It was as much a part of him as his blue skin. He waited patiently for a few minutes until he heard Kurt lean away from the window.

"Fine. Does it involve food?" Kurt asked.

"No, it doesn't involve food," David said, aghast.

He pounded the steering wheel with one hand.

"We just ate, what, two hours ago?" he asked, "You had three hamburgers, a large order of fries, a milkshake, and a coke. How can you still be hungry?"

"I just am," Kurt said.

David decided not to comment on that.

"Nothing to do with food," he said, "Next guess?"

"Well, it's nothing nature related," Kurt said, looking out at the concrete roads and sidewalks, "Architecture?"

"Yep."

"Is it beautiful?" Kurt asked.

"It's amazing," David said.

"Huh," Kurt said.

His brother tapped his lips with one of his three fingers and looked out around them.

"Is it old?" he asked.

"Yep," David said.

He could feel the excitement building inside of him. David wondered if his brother would actually guess it before he got there. He hadn't managed to guess anything yet, but David felt that he had a real shot at hitting it big this time.

"How old?" Kurt asked.

"Yes or no questions," David said.

Kurt folded his arms sulkily and stared out of the windshield.

"Is it more than fifty years old?" he asked.

"Yeah," David said.

"Do we need to pay to get into it?" Kurt asked.

"No," David said.

"Good," Kurt said.

"Good?" David asked.

His brother shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, "Spending all this money seems kind of-"

"Kurt, I'm going to Yale," David said, "That's super expensive, but mom and dad didn't even bat an eyelash when they heard that. They just congratulated me."

David took a deep breath.

"We're lucky Kurt," he said, "Our parents have a lot of money. Like a lot. Our dad's family has apparently had a lot of money for the past century. We're not going to have to worry about paying a ten dollar cover fee or anything like that."

He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"We're pretty fortunate," he said.

The words fell convincingly from his lips. David was glad. He sometimes had trouble reminding himself about that when the voices in his head screamed filth and insults at him in the middle of the night.

"Just because we can doesn't mean we should," Kurt said.

"Hey, dad and I might've had our differences, but I'm not using this trip as an excuse to spend his money," David said.

"I didn't say that," Kurt said.

"No, you didn't," David said, smiling, "But I'm just saying that I didn't plan this trip to be expensive. Get it?"

"Got it," Kurt said.

"Good," David said.

He turned a corner and headed into the parking lot.

"And you've used up all your time for your questions Kurt," David said, "Now you're just going to have to wait until you see it to know."

"I wouldn't if you'd just tell me where we're going," Kurt said.

"And I told you that it's not fun that way," David said.

He pulled the key out of the ignition and left the car. As he shut the door he saw his brother teleport outside the car. He straightened his t-shirt as he looked around. David knew that he was looking for anyone who might stare, and he wished he could change that.

If he said something about it though, he knew that it would just make it worse. He had the feeling that it would make Kurt feel like he was being evaluated on his progress or something. David had certainly had enough of people asking if he was fine to know it didn't always help.

So he looped an arm around his brother's shoulder.

"You're going to love this," he said, "I promise."

"I don't even know what you're talking about," Kurt said.

"I love seeing the look of shock on your face far too much to just come out and tell you all of my best plans," David said, "Now, indulge me."

Kurt rolled his eyes as they rounded the corner. His eye roll abruptly stopped and his eyes widened.

"David-" he said.

"Yep," David said.

The turrets rose above them, reaching heavenward. While the church was in a crumbling neighborhood and not quite up to the historical importance of other churches, it was old. The gothic architecture had been done with care, each column beautifully crafted.

A few stain glass windows circled the building. In the afternoon sunlight multi-colored light streamed through the windows, illuminating the unkempt lawn and crumbling path in front of it. A few trees with remarkably few leaves for the summer stood outside of it.

"It's not exactly St. Paul's," David said, "But I thought you'd appreciate this type of beauty."

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. He teleported away, only to come back a moment later with one of his bags.

"Come on," he said.

"I'm coming," David said.

Together they walked to the outside of the church. There was a notice that said it was closed, but Kurt didn't seem to mind. He was too enraptured by the way that the faded stain glass windows reflected the light. David saw him pull out countless colored pencils as he tried to capture it.

Kurt sat down on his haunches as he began drawing the church. David sat down and stretched his legs. He watched his brother sketch for a few minutes in silence. It was a warm summer day, a slight breeze rustling his hair.

David leaned back and closed his eyes. He felt a sort of quiet peace trickle into him. It was the type of peace that he couldn't get at Westchester. Being away from home had some sort of magical quality to it. He wondered if it would feel this good at Yale.

Yale. The thought drew him up short and he bit his lip. Yes, he'd be going to Yale to study law in a few months. It felt a little like he was being passed from one school to another instead of from one home to another, but his education was going to continue. This time though, he'd be studying the subject that he intended to continue with for the rest of his life.

He sighed and opened his eyes. Kurt was still sketching. David pushed himself onto his elbows.

"Kurt," he asked, "why did you start drawing?"

"Because there's an awesome church here," Kurt said, not looking up.

"No, I mean in general," David said, "I can always remember you painting, doing something with art. Ever since we were little."

Kurt stopped sketching for a minute.

"I don't know," Kurt said, "It's just..."

He waved one of his pencils around.

"There's so much color in the world," he said, "And I wanted to have some of it. And then, when I got older..."

He tapped his shoulder with his pencil.

"I don't look like other people, but that's not bad," Kurt said, "And there are weird looking trees and stuff, and overgrown churches, and they're not bad. They're just different. They need someone who understands that to try and paint or draw them or something. Maybe it's what I'm supposed to do or something."

Kurt looked up at him, his expression sheepish.

"That probably sounded really stupid," he said.

"Nah," David said, "It makes sense."

He let his arms go slack and he fell back down on the grass. He didn't want to tell his brother that he wasn't sure if law was what he was supposed to do. If he'd been asked a few years ago he would have told them that he was going to be an X-man, plain and simple. His career hadn't really mattered.

Now that he wasn't going to be an X-man he was only going to have his career to console him. It was going to be the way that he made a difference in the world. He was good with law, and it was fun, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to feel excited about it.

He sighed again and closed his eyes. No matter. He didn't have to think about that, not for a while. He had come out to forget all about that, to forget his doubts, his father, the X-men, everything. He'd come out to have an adventure.

"Got it!" Kurt said.

David opened one eye and smiled to himself. He'd certainly picked the right person to share his adventure with. He couldn't ask for more in a brother.


	35. Chapter 35

June 6, 1988

"This should be interesting," David said as he slung his bag onto the hotel bed, "New Orleans is supposed to be a real party city."

"Don't get drunk or anything," Kurt said, "You're not legal and I'm way too young to be your designated driver."

"We both know you know how to drive," David snorted.

"Yes, but I'm not supposed to," Kurt said.

David laughed and unzipped his duffel bag.

"When has that stopped anyone?" David said, "And don't worry: I wasn't planning on getting drunk. Just planned on seeing the sites and eating some really good fried food. I know you'll like that."

Kurt grinned. Their mother had pretty much banned fried chicken from Westchester when she realized just how much Kurt liked it, and how fast he was putting on weight because of him. He knew it wasn't good for him, but he was just crazy about fried food. Now the only time he saw fried chicken was when Mr. Guthrie bought some in, and Kurt was too polite to just take some. One day he had the feeling the smell was going to push him past his breaking point though.

"I hear they even serve fried alligator," David said.

Kurt's jaw dropped.

"You've got to be joking," he said.

"Nope," David said, "Do you wanna get some?"

"Yes!" Kurt said, "I mean, I can't understand people who could just pass up an opportunity like that!"

David fished a new pair of jeans out of his suitcase. He threw them over the nightstand and closed up his suitcase again.

"Yeah, who could resist?" he asked.

He shoved his suitcase off his bed and onto the floor. David jumped onto the bed and stretched.

"We need to get out soon," he said, "I don't like being cooped up in the car for so long."

"You were the one who wanted to come all this way," Kurt said.

He teleported to his own bed and sat on his haunches. It had always seemed so comfortable.

"Why did you want to go to Louisiana so bad anyway?" he asked.

"I don't know, go new places," David said, "See new stuff. That's what this road trip is all about, seeing new things, leaving our old world behind."

He waved his hand vaguely. Kurt cocked his head.

"Is that why you didn't want to visit Uncle Hank, Aunt Carly, and Sharon when we went by Washington?" he asked.

David made a face at the ceiling.

"A little I guess," he said, "But if we went there then I'd probably just end up asking Sharon to come with us. Can't have that."

Kurt scratched the back of his neck.

"Why?" he said.

"What?" David asked, "Asking her or her coming with us being a bad thing?"

"Both," Kurt said.

David rolled onto his side, pulling at the blankets.

"Well, I'd ask her because we've been such great friends for years," he said, "But...really Kurt, I don't want too many people with us right now."

"And why not?" Kurt asked.

"I dunno, this is one last blowout before college starts," David said, "I'm kind of nervous about that actually."

"Why?" Kurt said.

David smiled grimly.

"Can you actually picture me as a lawyer, or at least as a pre-law freshman?" he asked, "Going out, taking statements, wearing stuffy suits, that sort of thing?"

Kurt squinted.

"Sort of," he said.

"Real reassuring," David said.

Kurt thumped the bed with his tail.

"I think you've got the mind to be whatever you want to be," Kurt said, "You're super-hardworking, and mom and dad say that that's all that really matters in life. You can do anything."

"We both know that's not true," David said.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"Nothing," David said.

He stretched again.

"But, back to Sharon," David said, "I'd prefer it if it was just you and me. She's got a lot going on anyway, and she's got her own friends, like that Rahne person now."

He winced a little and leaned his head back.

"But if I saw Sharon, well, I'd have to ask," David said, "And if she says that she'd come, and she might, it would kind of ruin the dynamic."

Kurt beamed. He could hear the unspoken trust in his brother's words.

"Do you understand?" David said.

"Yeah," Kurt said.

"I thought you would," David said, "Not many people would. People like dad."

His voice became bitter. Kurt frowned. He always felt uncomfortable when David said something about their father. Kurt didn't really understand his brother's anger. Their father had always seemed encouraging and supportive. David's sudden rejection and hate towards him had made Kurt scared when he was younger.

He understood that his father had cast the final vote that forbade David from being in the X-men. Kurt knew that was the latest, and perhaps greatest, offense. However, Kurt also couldn't think of any other offense. That couldn't be all though: David had been angry at their father for years before he was told he couldn't be part of the X-men.

Kurt had never said anything on the subject. Whenever it had been brought up his brother had just had an argument with his father and he'd needed someone to vent to. Kurt had played the part of the patient listener because he knew his brother wasn't interested in a discussion.

He debated whether or not he should say anything, but he couldn't just let that comment go. Not now that he had an opportunity.

"David, what is it between you and dad?" he asked.

His brother stiffened and rolled onto his back.

"Kurt, I'm not sure that we should talk about this right now," he said.

Kurt swallowed.

"It's just...I don't know why you're so angry all the time," Kurt said, "It worries me."

"It worries you," David said.

His voice was flat and irritated. Kurt looked at his feet.

"Yeah," he said, "It worries me."

Silence stretched out between them. Kurt wanted to teleport away, to pretend that he wasn't having this conversation with his brother. They'd only been talking for a few seconds, but he already regretted bringing it up.

"We don't have to-" he began.

"It worries you," David said.

He sat up and looked at Kurt, his eyes narrowed.

"That's just great Kurt," he said, "You're worried about what's happening between me and dad? Okay, let's talk about it!"

He threw up his hands, a manic expression on his face. Kurt shrank back.

"Let's talk about a dream that I've had since I was born being taken from me," he said, "Let's talk about the fact that the one person in the world who is supposed to support me pretty much gave up and let it happen. He didn't even try to work something else out!"

David's eye twitched.

"And just like that, there's that dream gone up in smoke," he said.

He clenched his fist. Kurt began to get scared again, but he forced it down. His brother was furious, but he was still his brother.

"And why? Because I'm unstable, because there's something wrong with me," David said.

His voice sounded choked and lost.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Kurt said.

"Easy for you to say," David snapped, "You don't hear people talking in your head all the damn time. I feel like I'm going crazy every day and there's nothing I can do with this. I've already dealt with six years of this. How the hell am I going to deal with six more? Ten more? Fifty more?"

"David-"

"Don't! You're the one who's worried after all," David sneered, "You don't understand. You never even wanted to be an X-man!"

Kurt shrank back a little more.

"No, but I know it was important to you," he said.

"Yeah, it was," David said, "But my sanity was important too, and I didn't really get much say in that when it got taken from me."

"You're not insane!"

"I'm well on the way there," David said, "And dad couldn't do anything about that either."

Kurt stared at his brother, wondering just what had happened to him.

"You can't blame him for that," Kurt said.

"You think I want to?" David yelled.

Kurt paused, his eyes widening. David looked like he was about to cry, his face contorted with anger, frustration, and sadness.

"Kurt, sometimes I can't tell where they end and I begin," David said, "I don't...I don't know how much of what I feel towards dad is me and how much is them. Dammit Kurt, I can't...I'm goddamned Legion and these voices keep running in my head..."

He put his hands on either side of his head.

"It's all pounding away, and I can't...I can't..." he moaned.

Kurt took a deep breath before teleporting over to his brother. David didn't look as Kurt put his hand on his shoulder.

"David, why didn't you tell me this?" he said, "Or dad? He'd be able to help-"

"Okay, by this point it's become pretty damn obvious that he can't help with this," David said, "And what am I supposed to do if I'm wrong about those emotions? What if I really do hate him and I'm just...Kurt, I don't want to make excuses for why I'm a bad son."

"You're not a bad son," Kurt said,

"Bad son, bad X-man, bad friend too probably," he said.

"I don't-" Kurt said.

"Every time I see Terry I think that she got to be an X-man and I didn't," David said.

"Why was it so important to you?" Kurt said, "There are other ways to make a difference for our cause."

"Kurt, being an X-man was how I was supposed to be a hero!" David said, "It was how I was going to find my way in the world. It was how I would-"

His brother stopped abruptly. Kurt waited, his eyes glued to his brother. Time seemed to tick by slowly.

"How you would what?" Kurt asked.

David took a shuddering breath.

"It was how I was supposed to make it up to dad, for being so damned angry all the time," he said, "Prove that I wasn't...that there was nothing wrong with me. That I could still make him proud, that it was okay, that it wasn't going to ruin anything for me."

He shook his head.

"And it just made me angry at him instead," he said, "So yeah Kurt, I'm a bad son."

"That's not true!" Kurt said.

"Please don't try to defend me," David said, "I know what I've done."

He bowed his head.

"Because there is something wrong with me Kurt," he said, "And I just see it more and more clearly every day."

He laughed bitterly.

"So yeah, you're worried about me?" he asked, "No shit Kurt. You'd be pretty dumb if you weren't."

He choked back a sob and shoved the few tears that managed to escape away.

"And here I am dumping all my shit on my brother," David said, "So I guess that makes me a pretty bad brother too."

"Don't say that," Kurt said.

David looked up, his face angry, ashamed, and Kurt could see the despair there.

"These aren't your problems to have to deal with," David said.

"You're my brother," Kurt said, "Of course they're my problems."

David stared at him for a minute before breaking into sobs. Kurt hugged him tightly, feeling more helpless and younger than he'd felt since he was eight, looking up at a cross in a dimly lit room in a hospital.

So he did what he had done then, the only thing that he could still do.

_Please_, Kurt prayed silently, _Please, help my brother._


	36. Chapter 36

June 6, 1988

Kurt walked alongside his brother, his tail moving back and forth behind him. He had attracted less stares in New Orleans than any other city that they had visited. He didn't know if it was because people thought he was a costume and it fit in, or if the population of New Orleans was just more accustomed to the unusual than other cities.

For some reason, he didn't really care. Any enjoyment he might have felt from this anonymity had been sapped out of him by the conversation that he'd had with his brother. It still preyed on his mind.

He hadn't wanted to go out afterwards, but David had said that they should. Kurt didn't see why, but he hadn't had it in him to argue with his brother. Not after everything that he'd told him.

Kurt looked around. The streets were illuminated with loud neon lights and bright decorations. It was pretty enough in its own way, but it blocked out the stars. He wasn't sure if he liked New Orleans yet, but he'd been nothing but optimistic when he talked about it to his brother. David didn't have to deal with him bringing the situation down on top of everything.

He looked at his brother. David was looking around, his expression pleasant enough. Kurt didn't know if that was how he really felt though. He had no idea what struggles were secretly going on in David's head. Not anymore.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to rush to the nearest payphone and tell his parents everything David had told him. He wanted to beg them to come down and do something, anything that would help David.

At the same time, David had told Kurt what was going on. Not his parents. Kurt wasn't naïve enough to think that anything told in confidence, especially something so harmful, should be kept secret. However, given his brother's track record with his father, as well as what he'd told him, calling his parents might only make things worse.

Kurt didn't know how to help David though. His brother had always stood up for him and been there when he needed him. The only reason the voices were in David's head was because he'd been trying to protect Kurt. David might not see it that way, might not have told Kurt that, but it was impossible not to feel that he was responsible on some level or another.

"Kurt?" David asked.

Kurt turned his head towards his brother, cocking his head uncertainly.

"What?" he asked.

"I asked if you wanted to get some of that fried alligator I was talking about," David said.

Kurt laughed.

"Sorry, I got distracted by all the lights," he said, "I kinda zoned there for a bit."

David grinned and put his arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"You like them?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kurt lied.

"New Orleans was a good choice on my part then," David said.

His brother steered him into a diner and got a seat. Kurt looked at the menu and, true enough, there was fried alligator with a side of fries. He also saw fried green tomatoes and a variety of other fried foods.

"They really do fry everything here, don't they?" Kurt asked.

"It looks like," David said, "Southern food you know."

"I don't really," Kurt said, "All I really know is Mr. Guthrie's fried chicken, and you know that I don't get that often."

"He snacks on fried chicken skin and fried green tomatoes too," David said.

Kurt put down his menu.

"Fried chicken skin?" Kurt asked.

"Eats it like potato chips," David said.

He leaned back, laughing. Suddenly his brother winced and put a hand to the area under his eye. David closed his eyes and Kurt dug his fingernails onto the underside of the table. As Kurt watched David's nose began to bleed.

David opened his eyes and touched his nose. He sighed when he saw the blood on his hand.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom for a minute," David said, "I'd like the jumbalaya if the waiter comes back."

"Got it," Kurt said.

Pinching his nose David walked away. Kurt watched him go with a sinking feeling. He looked down at his menu, all thoughts of fried alligator leaving his mind. He buried his face in his hands, just wanting to shove everything away.

Kurt wished he knew a way to help his brother. He didn't have any experience with these things. Kurt started to reconsider his position on calling his parents in. It might make things worse, true, but it would be doing something rather than nothing.

He just wanted to cry. He was only fourteen, and it didn't seem like it was old enough to be involved in a situation like this. Then again, he'd learned that he was adopted at eight. Terry had been snatched from her father before she could talk. Sharon had struggled after an explosion had injured her and left her mother in a coma.

Then there was David. Being twelve hadn't stopped the horrors of life from becoming real for his brother, from scarring him for the rest of his life. Why should the world take exception for anyone's age now?

A crash made him look up. Kurt saw a teenager go rolling across the floor, pieces of glass spraying out everywhere. Everyone quickly got out of their seats and rushed towards the exit. Kurt watched as the teenager tried, and failed, to get to his feet.

Kurt teleported to his side. He put a hand on the teenager's shoulders, only to have it furiously pushed out of the way.

"Get outta da way."

"I was just-" Kurt tried.

"No!"

Kurt moved back and watched the teen try shakily to get to his feet. He stumbled and Kurt grabbed his arm. Without asking, Kurt helped him to his feet.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," the teen said.

Kurt let go, feeling uncertain. The teen clutched his left arm, and Kurt saw that there was a deep slash there. It had gone straight through his brown trench coat. His face was decorated with bruises and swelling fast, but Kurt could still see his furious black and red eyes.

There was also blood spreading across his shirt.

"Did you get shot?" Kurt asked.

"Dun't matter," the teen said.

"You need to get to a hospital," Kurt said.

The teen slid his eyes over to him.

"Ya know, Remy appreciate da help, but if ya don't wanna get hurt, ya gotta git outta da way," Remy snapped.

Kurt opened his mouth just as someone kicked the door open. He felt Remy push him out of the way as an older teen walked in, flanked by four other men. Kurt pushed himself up and looked. The mens' guns were trained on Remy, and the teenager in front of the men was looking at Remy, his eyes glowing with a strange joy.

"Gotcha Remy," the teen said.

"Never could do anytin by yaself could ya Henri?" Remy snarled.

Henri opened his arms.

"What did ya expect?" he said, "Daddy's pretty damn furious right now."

Kurt pushed himself up a little bit, breathing in deeply.

"And that's why ya're gonna hafta die now Remy," Henri said.

Without thinking Kurt teleported behind Henri and wrenched his gun out of his hands. Another of the men brought his gun around, and Kurt smashed the butt of the rifle into his face. He saw yet another of the men cock his gun and aim it at him.

A glowing playing card landed on the man's chest. It exploded and the man was sent rocketing backwards. Kurt saw Remy pluck another glowing card from his pocket, but Henri launched himself at him and the two fell to the ground in a swirl of fists.

The butt of a shotgun hit Kurt in the stomach. He stumbled and barely managed to avoid a blast from another shotgun. He jumped up onto the wall, climbing it before dropping down on the nearest man and shoving him to the floor.

Kurt heard clicks from a shotgun and looked up. The last two men were aiming both of their guns at him. Kurt calculated where he needed to teleport just as the two men were sent flying into the wall.

He turned and saw his brother coming out of the bathroom, his eyes wide and his hand outstretched.

"Kurt, what the hell is going on?" he asked.

"No clue," Kurt said.

He rushed forward and grabbed Henri beneath his arms, pulling him off Remy. He struggled and David raised his hand just as Kurt let go. Henri was lifted into the air, snarling and spitting.

"All ya freaks are in dis ting together, that it?" he demanded.

David's eyes narrowed.

"I really, really have a thing against being called freak," he said, "So unless you want to end up a smear on the floor, you're going to shut the hell up."

Henri glared at him as Remy tried to get to his feet. Kurt helped him up, and he saw Remy's eyes flash.

"I told ya ta stay outta it," Remy said.

"I wasn't raised that way," Kurt said.

From his place in the air Henri began to laugh.

"I think I'm going to regret asking this, but what's funny?" David asked.

"Y'all are," Henri said.

His eyes slid over to Remy.

"Daddy's still comin after ya, no matter how many freaks ya got."

Henri slammed into the wall and David's fingers twisted.

"I told you not to use that word," David hissed, "I have a real impulse control problem when people do it."

"Really?" Henri said, "Let's see what ya be made of."

"Whoever ya are, my brother be an idiot," Remy said, "But don't."

David still didn't move.

"David," Kurt said, his voice desperate.

David blinked and looked over at Kurt. Kurt saw that his nose had started to bleed again. David wiped it away with his shirt sleeve.

"Never mind," David said, "Just go to sleep."

Henri made a face, and then his eyes slid to the back of his head. David let him drop and he walked over to Kurt and Remy.

"Kurt, you good?" he asked.

"I'm good," Kurt said.

He gestured to Remy.

"I can't say the same for him though," Kurt said.

"Remy be fine," Remy said.

"You've been shot," David said, "And most likely stabbed, and beaten. I don't think you're fine. Interesting what you did with the card though. We'll have to discuss that later. But right now, we have to call the police and get you to a hospital."

"No."

David threw his hands into the air.

"Look, I don't pretend to know what's going on-" he began.

"No, ya don't. But if ya take Remy to a hospital Remy's gonna be killed," Remy said, "Same ting if you call da cops."

"What?" Kurt said.

David glanced at him.

_Kurt, I think that this is a little more complicated than we thought,_ he thought.

_I'm getting that too,_ Kurt thought.

David looked back at Remy.

"How far do we have to take you before you'd feel safe going to the authorities or a medical facility?" David asked.

Remy laughed. He stumbled on his feet and Kurt had to fight to keep him upright.

"Couple o states," Remy said, "Mebbe Maryland."

David's eyebrows rose even further.

"That's...weird," he said, "But fortunately for you, we do actually know a doctor up there."

"Ya don't understand-" Remy tried.

"No, you don't understand," Kurt said, "We're not just gonna leave you here to die."

Remy looked at him, his black and red eyes puzzled.

"But...ya don't know Remy," he said.

"I have a feeling that's going to change in the next few hours," David said, "Now, let's get moving."


	37. Chapter 37

June 7, 1988

"Is he still bleeding?" David asked.

"Not so bad," Kurt said, "But we really need to get him to a hospital."

"Remy can hear ya!" Remy said.

"No reason why he shouldn't," David said.

He wanted to rub his temples, but he needed both of his hands for the steering wheel. Over the past four hours they'd been driving as fast as they could out of Louisiana. It appeared that he'd be paying Sharon, or more specifically her father, a visit after all.

In the back he heard Kurt tighten Remy's bandages. Remy made a small noise in the back of his throat. David kept his eyes on the road though. He was going at speeds that even he wasn't comfortable now, but they needed to make Maryland pretty soon.

Remy's injuries, despite their initial appearance, weren't actually life-threatening. Still, if he was going to live further than a few days he would need to seek medical attention. At the rate they were currently going, they would be able to make it to Hank's.

There was something else that was bothering him though.

"So, Remy, now that you're bandaged, do you mind telling us what the hell is going on?" David said.

There was a pause.

"Remy's not so sure-" Remy said.

"My brother nearly got shot trying to help you," David snapped, "Every minute that we don't know what's going on is a potential safety risk to all damn three of us. I see no reason why you shouldn't be sure."

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"Besides, I'm asking your permission out of courtesy," he said, "I'm a telepath. If I wanted, I could already know by now."

"So why don't ya?" Remy said.

"Because I wasn't raised that way!" David said.

His brain caught up with his words after they left his tongue. Didn't he resent his upbringing? He wasn't so sure anymore. It was more of that confusion, more of that vague sense of disconnect between what he knew was him and what he thought might be the terrorists.

"Y'all keep sayin that," Remy said.

"Because we mean it," Kurt said, "You can trust us."

There was a long pause. David was just about ready to tell Remy that he was going to pull over and go into his mind when Remy spoke.

"It be a long story," he said.

"I'm going about forty miles over the speed limit, and we still won't be there any time soon," David said, "Don't worry about it being a long story."

"Well, y'all ever heard o da Thieves Guild?" Remy asked.

"No," Kurt said.

"Remy'd be worried if ya did," Remy said, "But da Thieves Guild is a collection o da top thieves in da world. Operates outta New Orleans."

"And you're a member?" David said.

For some reason the idea seemed ridiculous.

"You're what, fourteen?" David asked.

"Fifteen," Remy snapped.

"Sorry if I don't believe you," David said.

An object hit the seat next to David. David glanced quickly down and saw that it was his wallet.

"When did you-?" he began.

"Does it matter?" Remy snapped.

David sighed.

"Keep talking," he said.

"Remy was adopted into da Guild when Remy was six," Remy said, "An I been runnin jobs since then. Big uns an little uns."

"How big?" Kurt asked.

"Banks, museums," Remy said.

His voice was dismissive.

"What dey didn't tell Remy was dat dey occasionally break into Assassins Guild territory," Remy said, "And dat...dat didn't sit right wi Remy."

David could hear that his voice became hesitant and tired.

"They asked you to kill someone, didn't they?" David asked.

"Yes," Remy said, "So Remy decided to get outta town tonight. Not easy when dey bribe da cops and half da officials in da south."

He laughed.

"Didn't get far."

"I can see that," David said.

"You were adopted?" Kurt asked.

His brother's voice sounded small and curious. David could feel his arms tense up again.

"Yeah," Remy said.

"And you just decided to leave them all behind?" Kurt said.

"Remy's daddy ain't exactly da best," Remy said, "An ya met Remy's charmin brother. Always been like dat. Wasn't so hard ta leave when it came down ta it."

"They weren't..." Kurt said.

David could tell his brother was struggling to wrap his head around the concept of an adoptive family that had never loved the adopted child. He coughed.

"So, let me get this straight," he said, "We have to get out of this area as soon as possible, right?"

"Dey might already be followin ya," Remy said.

"Hm," David said.

He looked around. He wished that he had brought one of the cellular telephones from Westchester. However, he hadn't thought that they would need it. There were plenty of pay phones around, and David hadn't exactly been expecting any sort of emergency.

He knew for a fact that he was outside telepathic contact, even if he was trying to get into contact with his father. If David really tried he supposed he could, but that would mean pulling the car over. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to do that. He might as well use a pay phone if they did that.

"Was it awful?" Kurt asked.

David kept his eyes on the road. He didn't feel comfortable with the questions that Kurt was asking, but he didn't suppose that he would ever feel comfortable with that sort of thing. He wasn't adopted, and he was sure it was something that he wouldn't understand.

"Didn't use ta think so, but den Remy got ta wonderin if it could be better somewhere else," Remy said.

He saw a fork in the road and sighed. He turned off suddenly to the left and a sign welcomed them to Kentucky. David could feel himself sweating. They'd have to keep driving for at least another day straight to make this work. He was glad that they hadn't come across many other cars, and he was doubly grateful that he hadn't run into any cops yet. He couldn't imagine the speeding fines.

David looked at the fuel gauge. They still had a quarter tank of gas, which would probably get them to a decent gas station. He wished he was in the Blackbird, that got much better gas mileage and it went much faster. Then again, he was acutely aware of the fact that he had never been taught how to fly the plane. Only X-men were allowed to fly it.

He shook his head and turned his mind to other things. David wondered how Hank would react when they showed up on his doorstep. He supposed that Hank was used to this sort of thing, although it didn't happen as much as it did in the old days. According to Sharon her mother had only found out about his past as part of the X-men when Alex had brought in a wounded Scott.

"-Remy never really saw anytin wrong wi it, but now dat Remy really tings about it, well, his work weren't so great. His family weren't neither."

David continued to tune Remy out. He wasn't sure what he was babbling on about, but it was important that he stayed conscious. If whatever Kurt was doing allowed him to stay awake, then he could talk as much as he liked.

"-an den dere were Bella Donna, an she were madder den a bag o snakes-"

Something in the road jolted one of the front tires, sending the car spiraling out of his control. David turned the steering wheel, but the speeds he was going at were too great for a quick turnaround. The car spun off the highway into the shoulder.

David slammed on the brakes, but a ditch beyond the shoulder was fast approaching. He concentrated and slowed the car, but the speed still sent the car forwards into the ditch. All things considered, the impact wasn't bad.

His clipped his head lightly on the review mirror, but his seatbelt came him in place. David unbuckled and looked behind him at Remy and Kurt. Kurt was rubbing the back of his neck and Remy looked pained, but neither of them had been injured from the crash.

"We have to get out of the car," David said, "I should be able to get it back on the road."

"I've got it," Kurt said.

David kicked the car door open and looked out. Several figures were standing in the road wearing police uniforms, and all of them had their guns trained on them.

"You are under arrest for aiding the escape of Remy Le Beau!" one of the cops called out, "Put your hands above your head!"

A strange feeling entered David as he looked at the police and the cowtrap on the road that had punctured his tire. Despite the mounting panic in his head, he knew that something was wrong. They were in Kentucky, had just come into the state. He'd swerved suddenly, just decided to take the Kentucky route. There was no way the local police could have been alerted so fast.

He slowly put his hands above his head, feeling calmer than he had since they had first run into Remy.

_Kurt, I'm going to try something_, he thought, _And if it goes south, then teleport out of here with Remy right away, understand?_

_What do you mean?_ Kurt thought, _I won't just leave you-_

_Kurt, just listen to me!_ David thought, _I think...I think I know what I'm doing._

David walked up, his arms still up above his head.

"Now the rest of you," the officer said.

"Can I see your warrant?" David asked.

The officer hesitated.

"What?" he asked.

"Your warrant, for Remy LeBeau's arrest," David said.

"We don't take that kind of stuff out on patrols," the officer snapped.

"No, of course not," David said, "Which tells me that you're actually a cop. Next question, what judge will be signing the warrant when it does go through, since I'm supposing this only has the status of an alleged crime right now?"

The officer hesitated and looked at the officer next to him.

"You don't know, do you?" David asked, "You're not Kentucky police, are you?"

He lowered his hands. The officer angled his gun and David laughed.

"Are you from Louisiana?" he asked.

"What difference does it make?" the officer snapped, "We're in hot pursuit!"

"I suppose you are," David said, "But I don't think you alerted the Kentucky police to the fact that you are, in fact, in hot pursuit right now. They're ignorant that you're in their state. Do you know why I think that?"

He didn't give the cop a chance to answer.

"Because you would have been able to tell me the name of the judge if you had," David said, "Because you would have, most likely, already contacted them to set up said warrant in Kentucky for extradition to Louisiana. You can't just take criminals from one state to another."

David smiled.

"And I swear, if you take us in now I'll bring this up in court, and it could very likely cost all of you your careers," he said, "Maybe more than that, because I'll see to it that the Kentucky police will make a big stink about it. And I don't think your boss wants this to be a high profile case now does he? Lots of publicity? He didn't even want to involve his friends in Kentucky, if he has any. Does he want that?"

The cops began looking at each other nervously. One cocked his gun.

"I could just kill you all right here," he said.

"Ah, yes, there is that option," David said, "And I think you're counting on no one knowing who Remy is. And we live in the real world, so we both know that few people will care much about a teenage delinquent showing up dead, or just going missing. But do you know what they will care about?"

He leaned in.

"Two rich kids who went missing on a road trip," David said, "Unfortunate, but that's the way it is sometimes. So, I ask you again, do you want all this publicity?"

The officer paused.

"You're bluffing," he said.

"Am I?" David asked.

He laughed.

"That's a really nice car for someone my age to have," David said, "Now, I could have stolen it, true, but I also knew quite a bit of legal jargon back there. It means that I've been very well prepared for a career in the law, which doesn't come cheap. Now, I could be a scholarship kid, but are you willing to take that chance?"

He leaned forward.

"If you are, then kill me and find out if I'm bluffing or not," David said.

The officer paused and slowly lowered his gun. David grinned.

"Now, get back in your cars and get the hell away from us," he said, "I have a tire to change."

The officer snarled at him, but turned on his heel and left. David watched him go and walked back to the car, feeling strange. He saw that Kurt and Remy were staring at him, Kurt's mouth opening once or twice.

"Did you...you know?" he asked, tapping the side of his head.

"No," David said.

He waved his hand and the trunk, containing their spare tire, opened.

"I am going to Yale you know," David said.

"You gonna be one helluva lawyer," Remy said.

David smiled as he levitated the tire and the necessary tools over to him.

"You know," he said, "I rather think I will be."


	38. Chapter 38

June 8, 1988

The knocking on the door was loud and insistent. Sharon got up, shoving her white hair out of her face and kicking the sheets away. She glanced at the digital clock next to her bed. It was two in the morning.

She got out of bed and grabbed her bathrobe. Sharon peered at her parents' room and considered waking them up. She didn't know who would be knocking at two in the morning, but if it was political then they would have called. If it wasn't then they were either paparazzi or an intruder.

If they were an intruder, then she didn't know if she would be able to handle them on her own. Her father had taught her how to defend herself, but she wasn't sure.

_Hey, Sharon, could you open the door? This is kind of an emergency._

_David?_ Sharon thought, looking around.

_The same. We kind of need your father's expertise right now. _

_Got it_, she thought.

Sharon pounded on the door to her parents' room. Her father opened the door, holding his glasses and looking confused. She could hear her mother yawning from behind her.

"Sharon, it is far too early to be playing pranks," he said.

"I'm not," she said, "David just contacted me. He needs our help, says it's an emergency."

Her father put his glasses on before straightening his pajamas. There were only a few things that could mean.

"Carly?" he asked, "Could you get my medical kit?"

Her mother nodded, flinging aside the blankets and heading into the next room. Sharon had to smile at that. Her mother, despite all of the years that had been stolen by her coma, was still the strong resourceful woman that Sharon remembered from her childhood.

Her father headed for the staircase, rolling his pajama sleeves up to his elbows. Sharon hurried down behind him as they approached the front door. He opened it and Sharon took a step back.

David and Kurt were supporting a third teenager between them. His eyes were slightly unfocused and he was heavily bandaged.

"Get him in, put him on the dining room table," her father said.

Kurt nodded. A moment later there was a flash of black smoke. Sharon followed her father into the dining room as David and Kurt laid the boy on the table. David stood next to her, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt.

"He's been shot in the chest at least once, but it missed all of the major organs since he doesn't have any internal bleeding," David said, "Or at least none that we can see. He's also got a nasty stab wound in his arm."

"How long ago did this happen?" her father asked, turning on the overhead light.

"About two days ago," Kurt said.

"And you didn't take him to a hospital?" her father asked, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Remy didn't want to, and for good reason," David said.

Her father raised his eyebrows.

"That sort of situation?" he asked.

Remy lifted his head and looked around the room. His eyes seemed to focus for a minute.

"Dere be a blue lion man in da room," he said, "Did ya two give Remy some drugs or-?"

"I'm quite real," her father said.

He picked up a book from one of the cabinets and used it to prop Remy's head up.

"We'll have to get him up further, give his blood a chance to get moving," Hank said.

"I'll do it," David said.

He moved closer to the table. Remy's head lolled slightly and looked at Sharon.

"Or mebbe Remy died, cause dere be an angel here," he said.

David yanked Remy upwards and Remy groaned. David held his hand out slightly, making sure that Remy was as far up as he could so her father could examine his wounds. Her father looked over him and began unwinding the bandages.

"I'm glad to see that the first aide classes at Westchester are still up to snuff," he said.

Sharon turned her head as her mother came downstairs with her father's medical kit. She put it on the table and stood next to her daughter. Her father opened it and began digging inside of it. He came out with a bottle of painkillers and a few tools.

"There are a few extra people in this room," he said, "And you're all blocking the light."

Kurt nodded and teleported away. Her father waved his hand, clearing the area of the black smoke.

"I hate it when he does that," her father said.

"He's just really comfortable with it," David said.

He glanced at Remy.

"Behave yourself, okay?" he asked, "Hank's going to get you patched up."

"And den what?" Remy muttered.

David cocked his head.

"After that I'd like to discuss an opportunity to further your education," he said, "So rest up."

David ran a hand through his hair and headed out of the room. Sharon's mother put a hand on her shoulder and gently began to steer her out of the room.

"Carly?"

Her mother turned. Sharon saw out of the corner of her eye that her father's expression looked pained.

"I'm sorry," he said, "But...I don't think he's going to make it without a transfusion."

"Don't worry," her mother said, her voice soft, "I still know how to work the IV."

Her father's face softened into a look of pure adoration. Sharon pretended not to look, but she couldn't help but smile. Life had gotten so much better since her mother had woken up. It felt like they were all having their first breath of fresh air in years.

Her mother guided her out of the dining room and into the living room. Sharon saw that David had already fallen asleep on the couch. Kurt was sitting in one of the armchairs, his head leaning back. Her mother patted her on the shoulder.

"You wait out here," she said, "I still know where your father keeps all his emergency equipment."

"I will," Sharon said, "But if you need any help-"

"I won't hesitate to call," her mother said.

She kissed Sharon on the forehead and left the room. Sharon crossed her arms and sat in an arm chair next to Kurt.

"Crazy night, huh?" she asked.

"Crazy few days," Kurt murmured.

He looked over at his brother.

"He only stopped for gas and coffee," Kurt said, "We were all in a pretty big hurry."

"Bathroom breaks must've been pretty hectic," Sharon said.

"Yeah," Kurt laughed.

He smiled.

"David really...he was the reason we made it this far," Kurt said.

Sharon leaned forward.

"What happened?" she said.

Kurt stopped for a minute and yawned.

"I dunno if I should," he said.

"My father's not going to be done with Remy for at least an hour," Sharon said, "We have time."

* * *

When David woke up his neck hurt. He looked around the room and saw that Kurt had curled up in one of the armchairs. He felt guilty for falling asleep on the couch, but he had just seen it and fallen into it. He sighed once and sat up.

"You were out for a while."

He glanced over as Sharon came into the room. She had a plate with a couple of sandwiches on it and put it on the coffee table.

"My mom's idea, and she needed something to eat after giving blood," she said, "I'm not very good with anything other than peanutbutter and jelly. Good thing my tastes run that way. Rahne's too."

She laughed.

"Weird when you consider how good my parents are when they cook."

"Children don't always take after their parents," David shrugged.

He reached out and picked up a sandwich. He was in the process of wolfing it down when Sharon spoke again.

"If what I heard tonight is true, then I think you're kind of wrong about that," she said.

David stopped halfway through his sandwich.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Kurt told me what happened," she said, "It's pretty impressive."

David shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich. Now that he had slowed down a bit he could tell that it was turkey and swiss cheese. The flavors all seemed to blend together somehow. He knew he needed to eat something though.

"It wasn't a big deal," he said, "Just a lot of backdoor legal stuff I read about and decent nerves. At least it means I'll be a pretty good lawyer after all."

"You got accepted to Yale, didn't you?" Sharon asked.

"Not the same thing," David said.

He picked up another sandwich.

"I think that you're not giving yourself enough credit," Sharon said, "It sounds like you saved Kurt and Remy's lives. Your brother wouldn't stop talking about it."

"He gives me too much credit," David said, "He was the one who stepped in in the first place."

"And you didn't stop him," Sharon said.

She sat down next to him.

"Is it just me, or don't you give yourself enough credit ever?" Sharon said, "Getting into Yale, getting down here, telling the police off, those were kind of big things."

David looked away and took a bite of his sandwich.

"Kurt exaggerates things," David said, "He looks up to me for some reason. I've never been able to figure it out."

Sharon laughed and punched David's shoulder lightly. He looked over at her, feeling like he was too tired to process much of what was going on.

"You're so stupid sometimes," she said, "It's really funny."

"Sharon-" David groaned.

"No, really," Sharon said.

She shook her head, sending her fluffy white hair everywhere.

"Stop thinking so badly of yourself," she said, "You did good these last couple of days. You've done pretty good in general."

"You don't know everything," David said.

Sharon put a hand on his shoulder

"I know more than you think," she said.

"Oh really?" David asked.

"I know what happened when you were twelve," she said.

David gritted his teeth. He hadn't wanted her to know. He hadn't wanted anyone to know who didn't have to.

"And I can't help but admire you for that," Sharon said, "Because what you did, what you're doing now, it takes a lot of courage."

She brushed some of her hair behind her ear.

"You're kind of like your dad in that respect," she said.

David's eyes narrowed.

"We're not alike," he said.

"Have it your way," Sharon said, "But you did do good tonight. And as for your brother looking up to you, you've earned that."

David finished his sandwich and swallowed. It didn't feel as good to swallow as the first one had.

"Sometimes I think that I do things just because he's watching," David said, "It's like...it's like I do things because I just can't let him down. That doesn't make me a good person."

Sharon shook her head.

"What a piece of work is a man," Sharon said, "How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty. In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel. In apprehension how like a god."

She glanced at David again. He wondered what she was getting at by quoting _Hamlet_.

"In comprehension how stupid," she said.

"Sharon," David moaned.

"No, you're being stupid again," Sharon said, "David, the very fact that you want him to look up to you, despite what you said, shows that you want to be worthy of that admiration. You're putting so much effort into trying to be the person you want to be. You're fighting so hard for something you've already achieved."

She abandoned his shoulder and squeezed his hand.

"Try not to be so hard on yourself," she said, "You might like the feeling."

David laughed. It was either laugh or cry, and somehow he preferred the idea of laughing.

"Thanks," he said, "I still think you're wrong, but thanks."

"And I still think you're stupid," Sharon said, "We'll both have to deal with that I guess."

"Yeah," David said, "I guess we will."

He closed his eyes and leaned back.

"So, when do you intend to tell your parents about this?" Sharon asked.

David pinched the bridge of his nose.

"God, I'd forgotten about that," he said.

He felt her squeeze his shoulder.

"Good luck," she said.


	39. Chapter 39

December 17, 1990

Kurt rubbed his temples as he looked over the essay in front of him. It was covered in smudge marks, since Remy always had a tendency to push down too hard on the pencil. He looked uncertainly from the paper to Remy, wondering just how to phrase what he wanted to say.

"It's C+ quality," he said at last.

Remy grinned.

"Dat be great," he said.

He punched the air and leaned back in his chair. Kurt breathed in and swished his tail. Remy had a way of finding compliments in advice and encouragement in admonishments. He'd have to clarify.

"If you want to edit it then I think that it could probably be better," Kurt ventured, "If you would just go over these passages again-"

"Hells no," Remy laughed, "Remy hate dat stupid book."

"It's just _Great Expectations_," Kurt mumbled.

"Dat book be stupid," Remy said, "Ya'll never see ol Remy givin up dat much for a girl."

Kurt rolled his eyes and put the essay aside. Sometimes Remy was hard to be friends with, but Kurt couldn't call him anything else. He'd wondered how Remy would adjust to life at the Institute: he certainly hadn't come under the most auspicious circumstances and David had left to start college soon after his arrival.

That meant that Kurt was the only one who had seen Remy before he had come to the Institute, the sheer puzzlement that they would sacrifice so much for him. Kurt couldn't help feel responsible for him after that, no matter how difficult he was. In the two years since they had met Remy had given Kurt a thousand reasons to be irritated at him and a thousand reasons to root for him.

He should feel honored. Remy only gave most people a thousand reasons to be irritated.

"All I'm trying to say is that I think that you can do better," Kurt said.

"Mebbe," Remy shrugged.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Dis whole school ting is kinda borin, no offense," he said.

Kurt sighed. Remy, like everyone, knew that he wanted to be an art teacher when he got older. Kurt hoped that he would get his start at the Institute, since he felt that their art program could use a bit of a boost. After that, who knew?

His parents had been proud, and he knew that David had liked the idea. Kurt wanted to teach by day and perhaps do some of his own work during the night. He wondered if he could be the first openly mutant artist to make it big. Once more, who knew?

Still, it didn't help when people were dismissive.

"We can't all be like ya brother in Yale," Remy said.

He tapped the wall with his foot.

"How he be doin by da way?" Remy asked.

"Well, Dean's List again," Kurt said, "Other than that it sounds like he's making friends, but he says that the work is getting harder. It's his second year in, so I guess that makes sense. Winter break's coming up, so he'll be home soon."

Kurt rubbed the back of his neck. He was looking forward to seeing his brother again, but he was still a little worried about him. David hadn't told him anymore about his condition since his confession two years previous. Despite his own fears and feelings, David had never talked to their father.

He seemed fine every time Kurt saw him, but he'd seemed fine before he'd told him the truth about the voices. After that Kurt had trouble believing that he was a decent judge of what his brother was feeling.

He wanted to ask him, but he wasn't sure how David would take a full on confrontation about his condition. He hadn't even wanted to tell Kurt what was wrong in New Orleans. Maybe it was getting better and saying something would ruin everything. The problem was that Kurt just didn't know.

Feeling a little deflated he turned back to the problem at hand.

"And you?" Kurt said.

"What about Remy?" Remy asked.

"You're going to be college age soon," Kurt said, "Do you have any plans for that?"

Remy shrugged.

"I like bein an X-man," he said, "Kinda fun."

Kurt sighed. He remembered when Remy had officially been accepted into the program, seen the slight hurt that had crossed David's face when he'd heard about it. His attitude towards Remy hadn't changed as a result, and Kurt knew that was progress in its own right. Yet, it still must have hurt to have Remy waltz in out of nowhere and make the team under the name Gambit.

"That's not a career," Kurt said, "That's a side thing. You need a job to go with it. All of the X-men right now are either students or teachers here. Do you want to be a teacher?"

He couldn't see it. He doubted Remy had the patience for that sort of thing.

"What are ya, Remy's friend o guidance counselor?" Remy asked, his voice thick with irritation, "Because last Remy checked, dat was your daddy's job."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," he said, "Not everyone can just go out and make a career out of being an X-man."

"What about dat Banshee an Siryn?" Remy asked, "I hear dey still doin what dey did in da X-men."

Kurt winced.

"That's Sean and Terry," he said.

"Same difference," Remy said, "Dey seem to do fine."

"That's a little different," he said.

* * *

Terry rubbed her shoulder. There was a bruise forming there, and it itched like crazy. Her father shook his head.

"Don't pull that stuff in the future," her father said.

"I'll try," she muttered.

She leaned back her head.

"What the hell is up with the Latverians?" she asked, "Anyone would think we were the bad guys."

"Well, they've experienced stability and a good measure of prosperity under Doom," her father shrugged, "He's a study in evil insanity to everyone but his own people so, to them, we kind of are the bad guys."

She snorted.

"I wonder what they think of the Richards," she said.

"They're actually considered terrorists," her father said.

He gave her a tired smile.

"Did you even read the dossier?" he said.

"I skimmed it," she said.

Her father just shook his head again.

"Read it next time," he said.

"Why would I need to do that? You always do?" Terry asked.

"You might not always work with me in the future," he said, "So read the dossier, okay?"

"Yes father," she droned.

"Don't take that tone with me young lady," her father said, drawing himself up in mock importance, "I might just have to send you to you room without supper."

"The horror," Terry said.

She stretched and rotated her arm a few times to make sure that everything was in working order. Satisfied, she pulled back her hair.

"Still," she said, "we have some time for rest and relaxation, right?"

"Sorry, no."

Terry groaned as Coulson walked in. He was a few years older than Terry and, since his father's retirement a year earlier, had taken over the position of their liaison to Fury and the rest of SHIELD. She knew that it would be easier to think of him as Phil, but she'd thought of his father as that for far too long. Since they both had the same name she had to think of him by his last name to distinguish the two.

Calling him junior would only serve to irritate him.

"Come on," she said, "We just got back."

"Unfortunately there's an incident in Chicago that needs to be tended to, and you're both not really outworkers anymore," he said, "It appears that the Juggernaut's down there and raising hell."

Terry groaned again and got to her feet. Her father rubbed his temples.

"Do we get some vacation time after this?" he asked.

"Sure. How's a month sound?" Coulson asked.

Her father stared him down for a moment before nodding.

"Sounds good, if you comp our tickets," he said.

"Done," Coulson said.

He produced a packet of papers.

"Unfortunately, due to the severity of the situation, we've had to call in someone who owes the Director a favor," he said.

Terry glanced at her father. She didn't like the sound of that.

"Meaning?" her father asked.

Coulson sighed and handed over the packet of papers to her father.

"See for yourself," he said, "My father told me once that you two had some sort of a history."

Her father scanned the paper, his eyes growing wide.

"You have got to be kidding me!" he said.

He turned to Coulson.

"I'm not doing this," he said, "I'm sorry, but I'm just not. Okay?"

"You agreed to," Coulson said.

"Before I knew I would have to be working with him!" he said.

Terry frowned. She tried to peek over her father's shoulder at the paperwork, but he began waving it in the air.

"I take it that it wasn't a good history," Coulson said.

"I ran into him once during an Interpol mission and he nearly got me killed," he said.

"I heard he saved your life," Coulson said.

"He did both!" her father said.

"Dad?" Terry said, "That...doesn't make a lot of sense."

She couldn't help but feel confused. Her father turned to her, looking pained.

"It's a long story, and not one that I like very much," he said.

Her father looked back at Coulson.

"Save the favor, my daughter and I don't need him with us," he said, "We can take down the Juggernaut by ourselves. Trust me when I say that this guy's more of a liability than an asset."

Terry crossed her arms, watching the conversation as though it were a tennis match. She'd seen her father argue back and forth, first with Phil and then with Coulson, in the past. He'd never been this vehement though.

"You do though," Coulson said, "You're going to need to read the dossier, but when you do you'll see that he's essential. We wouldn't have used him if we didn't have to."

Coulson made a face.

"Believe me, Director Fury doesn't like him very much either," he said.

Her father sighed and slumped into a chair.

"If I find that he's essential, then I want hazard pay for both me and my daughter on top of the usual mission pay," her father said.

"I'm not sure if that's necessary Sean," Coulson said.

"Have you read this guy's file?" her father asked, "He's going to blow something up. Maybe several somethings. He loves blowing stuff up. He's blown himself up a couple of times if the stories are true."

Coulson hesitated, and then nodded.

"Okay," he said, "Hazard pay on top of everything else. Now, you'll find your tickets in the packets as well as the rest of the information. I wish you both luck."

Her father snorted and Coulson shrugged. He left the room, giving them a final backwards glance before leaving. Terry looked back at her father, who slumped into a chair and glared at the packet.

"Is he really that bad?" Terry asked.

"Yes, and he doesn't play well with others," her father muttered, "He's insane."

"Dad, you say that about a lot of people you don't like," Terry said.

"No, he's clinically insane," her father said, flipping through the packets, "It's been called by three doctors. Schizophrenia, impulse control disorder, not really in touch with reality, and highly sociopathic."

Terry bit her lip.

"Tell me again why SHIELD is using him?" she asked.

"Because he's a mercenary they can trust and, for all his insanity, he's actually rather good at what he does," her father said, "It's ironic in a way."

Terry sat down next to her father.

"So who is he anyway?" she asked.

Her father handed her the packet.

"See for yourself," he said.

Terry looked at the packet. A red and black masked face stared back at her. To the side she saw a name printed in bold: Wade Wilson.

"From what I remember, he prefers to be called Deadpool," her father said.


	40. Chapter 40

January 2, 1991

"Can you change your ears yet?" Sharon asked.

Rahne squeezed her eyes shut. Her ears slowly turned into that of a wolf's, her brown hair turning into sleek fur briefly. After a moment her ears turned back into normal and Rahne gave her a shy smile.

"That's great!" Sharon said.

The library the two of them in had met in was quiet, and not many people went to it. It was why Sharon liked it: it granted her anonymity when she needed to get research materials for her college reports.

It was a coincidence that they had met in the library. They both went to different schools, Sharon to Howard University and Rahne to a local high school. They had met when they had reached for the same book about the American Revolution. Sharon had gone to apologize and seen that Rahne was staring at her with wide eyes.

At first she'd thought that she was frightened. Her white hair and slitted eyes certainly did arrest attention. Sharon had drawn herself up and waited for her to run away. Then Rahne had tentatively put out a hand and fur had slowly grown on it. Rahne had immediately drawn her hand away and run off.

The next time she'd seen Rahne she'd stayed long enough to talk, and a friendship had formed. They met every few days to talk about books, but more often they ended up talking about life, or about Rahne's mutation. Sharon had the feeling that not many people were very receptive to it.

"You've got more control than I do though," Rahne said, "I can't fully transform yet."

"Don't feel bad," Sharon said, "My dad told me a lot about-"

She hesitated. Sharon knew that her friend had been in a local orphanage since birth. As such she knew that Rahne hadn't grown up with a lot of money. It had always made Sharon a little uncomfortable since she had a stable, well-off home life.

She tried not to talk too much about her family, but sometimes she walked right into it. She still didn't know if Rahne knew that Sharon's father was a senator. Sharon wasn't sure if she should tell her. All Rahne knew was that her father was a mutant and her mother wasn't.

"-he taught me a lot about control," Sharon said, not missing a beat.

Rahne smiled.

"Your parents sound like nice people," she said.

"They are," Sharon said.

She leaned on her hand.

"You could come and visit sometime," Sharon said.

Rahne shook her head.

"I'm not sure I'd have time," she said.

"Well, when you do," Sharon said.

She looked at the clock and began gathering her books. Rahne looked over at them.

"That's a lot of Shakespeare," she said.

"It's an old favorite," Sharon said.

"I haven't read much," Rahne said, "Not really my thing, sorry."

"No, it's fine," Sharon said.

She grinned.

"If I wanted someone to fight me for hours over a sentence of dialogue I'd call David," Sharon said.

Rahne raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah," she said, "Your boyfriend."

Sharon flushed. She should have known that talking about David to Rahne would be a bad idea.

"He's not my boyfriend," she said.

"No, he's just a boy that you really like," Rahne grinned.

Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Now you're just being silly," she said, "He's been a great friend for a really long time, and he's helped me a lot."

"And you like him because you two have a common history, and he cares about you-" Rahne said, counting off on her fingers.

"Not like that," Sharon said.

"-and you two have a ton in common," Rahne said, finishing with her countdown, "Did I miss anything?"

Sharon hesitated, but she could see that Rahne was determined as well as amused. There was no point in lying anymore. Rahne was her friend after all, and she had been raised to be honest.

"He has really beautiful eyes," she said.

Rahne laughed and Sharon blushed so much that she felt like her ears were on fire.

"Not just the eyes...there's so much emotion..." Sharon tried, "I mean...he's holding so much inside and he cares so much..."

Rahne kept laughing. The blushing subsided and Sharon felt a little irritated.

"He's three years older than me," she said, "He wouldn't be interested."

"Maybe," Rahne shrugged.

Sharon got up and picked up her coat. She wished that Rahne hadn't brought David up. She'd done a lot of thinking about her feelings, and every time she'd thought about it, she had come to really bad conclusions.

She had considered talking to her mother about it. Sharon didn't have a clue how her father would react, but her mother would probably give her some gentle advice. Her mother had always been really good at that.

Still, her mother was still acclimatizing to the fact that she had been asleep for five years. It wasn't an easy adjustment to make, and Sharon didn't want to give her an extra burden. Her mother hardly knew David too, didn't know the man that he had grown into. If she remembered anything, she remembered the child who was always listening in on other people's conversations.

So Sharon had decided to keep it secret in the end, but it had only taken talking about David to Rahne for her to figure things out. Sharon didn't like that, since it meant that it was obvious to anyone who bothered to look.

She was tired of talking about it though.

"Wanna get a hot chocolate?" Sharon asked, "There's this great café down the way that uses lots of marshmallows and whipped cream. They even put real chocolate shavings on top of the whipped cream."

Rahne looked at the clock.

"Yeah," she said, "I think that I've got time before I'm expected back."

Sharon smiled, relieved that they had changed the subject. Rahne pushed in her chair and put on her coat. Sharon frowned. Her friend had gotten to the library before she had, so Sharon hadn't noticed her coat.

In the past Rahne's coat had always made Sharon a little uncomfortable. Her coat had been patchy and it didn't look like it had kept her very warm. So Sharon had gotten her a new purple coat for Christmas. Her friend had been so excited, and Sharon had felt pleased that she had given her a good gift.

However, Rahne was still wearing her patchy coat.

"Rahne," Sharon said, "I don't mean to be nosy but...did something happen to the coat I gave you?"

Rahne stiffened immediately.

"It got dirty," she said, "It's getting washed."

There was something rehearsed about Rahne's voice that Sharon didn't like.

"Is that what really happened?" Sharon asked.

Rahne nodded, the motions slow. Sharon paused, trying to figure out what to say.

"Rahne," she said, "if something's wrong, you know that you can tell me about it, right? I mean..."

She smiled nervously.

"We're friends," she said, "You can tell me anything."

Rahne adjusted her coat sleeves.

"It got dirty," she said.

Sharon sagged.

"Okay," she said, "Okay. But remember what I said."

She put her arm around Rahne's shoulder.

"Now, let's go get some hot chocolate," she said.

Rahne smiled and Sharon led her out of the library and into the light snow. She resolved to keep a closer eye on her in the future. It was what people did when they cared about each other: they watched each other's backs. And, when all else failed, they provided a safe haven.

* * *

"Mom, mom!" Luna said.

Lorna signed her final signature on the paperwork in front of her. There seemed to be so much of it these days. She smiled as her daughter ran in, a daisy crown in her messy brown hair. Her other hand held a ragged bunch of wildflowers, the dirt still smearing her hands.

Alex referred to their daughter as a princess, and she certainly did look like a wild forest princess at the moment. It was ironic, because he was out on a father-son camping trip with Max at the moment.

Max seemed to be growing up so fast. It seemed like only yesterday that she had held him in her harms as a baby, but he had manifested his mutation a month before. He had taken after her rather than Alex when it came to their mutations. Currently she was guiding him through the early stages of manipulating metal. It reminded her of her first months with her father. Sometimes she had to fight back the tears when her son looked to her for approval, just like she had looked ot her father.

At the moment though, he was exploring the Alaskan wilderness with Alex and Lorna was enjoying the time with her daughter. She had a few activities planned, just like she would have to plan when Luna went on her camping trip with Alex.

It would certainly make the house quieter.

"What is it Luna?" Lorna asked.

"First, I got these for you," Luna said.

She put the messy bunch of wildflowers into Lorna's hands. Lorna smiled and smelt them.

"Thank you very much sweetheart," she said.

Luna smiled and put her hands behind her back.

"Also," she said, "there's a weird-looking woman looking for you."

Lorna felt her heart stop even as she told herself to calm down. Now that she was working with mutants Lorna ran into many people that Luna might describe as weird-looking. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

Instead of letting her feelings show, Lorna simply smiled and put the flowers on the table.

"Don't call anyone weird," Lorna said, "We're a little different ourselves, and it's very rude."

"Well she was looking at me weird," Luna said, "That's why."

Lorna swallowed and got up.

"Luna, it doesn't matter. Just don't call anyone weird," she said.

Luna nodded and headed to the living room. Lorna walked to the front door and put her hand against the doorframe. She breathed in again, feeling her heart beating and her eyes tearing up. She was almost afraid to open the door, afraid that it wouldn't be Angel in the front yard. It had been so many years since she had seen her, and Lorna had just about given up on seeing her again.

Lorna opened the door. Standing outside the fence she saw Angel. Her clothes were pastel colors, a baggy blue sweater and faded jeans. Her hair had been cut into a sort of bob, showing Lorna just how much she had aged in the past few years.

There were a few bags around her feet, and her shoes looked well-worn. Lorna, as though in a dream, walked up to the gate. Angel moved a little closer to the gate too, her hands clasped in front of her.

"How long has it been since you left the Brotherhood?" Lorna asked.

Angel didn't even question how she knew. Lorna supposed that the fact that Angel was there was confirmation enough for both of them.

"Six or so," Angel said.

She tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

"I needed to figure some things out about myself first," she said, "But, right now..."

Angel's eyes met hers.

"Does that invitation still stand?" she asked.

Lorna choked back a sob. She flung open the gate and threw her arms around Angel. Angel hugged her back, and Lorna could hear that she was crying too.

"I'm so sorry," Angel cried, "All those years..."

"It's okay," she said, "It's okay."

They cried together for a little longer. Then Lorna heard small footsteps.

"Mom?"

Lorna turned around. Luna was staring at the two of them.

"Mom, why are you crying?" she asked.

"I'm just really happy sweetheart," Lorna said.

She put her hand on Angel's shoulder.

"You might not remember Angel," Lorna said, "She visited once when you were very little."

Luna frowned.

"I think I remember," she said.

"You do?" Angel said.

Lorna could see that Angel was still crying.

"Yes," Luna said, "Sorta. But, mom..."

She looked up at Lorna.

"Who is she?" she asked.

Lorna tightened her grip on Angel's shoulder.

"She's your aunt," Lorna said, "And she's come home."


	41. Chapter 41

August 2, 1991

"So, I think it's going to go away in time," Alex said, "right?"

Hank shrugged.

"I don't think that Luna stealing cookies is going to go away in time," Hank said, "Not if you don't let her know that she's not supposed to do it."

"She's just so hard to yell at," Alex said.

"Then don't yell," Hank said, "Just speak sternly. Lorna can't do all the disciplining you know. Weren't you a little stricter with Max?"

"Max was different," Alex said, "He didn't give me puppy dog eyes."

He took a swig of his beer. It had been a long time since the three of them had gotten together over anything normal. Alex wasn't surprised that the topic of conversation had quickly turned to his children.

He still believed he had the roughest time. Alex had twice as many kids than the others, and it wasn't like either of them had a former Brotherhood member for a babysitter. Lorna'd been very firm on Angel being part of her life and, when push came to shove, Alex hadn't had the heart to argue with her. He wondered if he was getting soft in his old age.

"Anyway, they're both doing well, so I suppose that's something to be grateful for," Alex said, "We've even started teaching Max some basic combat skills. He needs it to help focus his mutation."

Hank nodded.

"We've done the same for Sharon," Hank said, "Nothing too advanced of course. I don't want her to be out there."

Alex was behind him. Once upon a time he knew that it would have seemed natural that his children would take to the field after him. Now the idea sent shivers down his spine. He supposed that it was, at least in part, due to their removal from the X-men.

"She wants to be a lobbyist though," Hank said, "I can only wish her good luck."

Hank drank some of his soda. As their designated driver he had refrained from having any alcohol. It seemed very Hank.

"Me too," Alex said.

He glanced over at Sean. He hadn't been so talkative that night. His head was on the table, glaring balefully at his beer.

"It's not bad if they do go into the field," Alex said, "Just, I want to give them options."

"Of course," Hank said, following Alex's gaze.

Sean didn't say anything. Alex put his beer down and crossed his arms. After a moment he kicked Sean under the table. Sean sat bolt upright, rubbing his shin.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked.

"I wanted to make sure that you were sill alive," Alex said, "What's eating you?"

Sean rubbed his shin again and looked at the two of them. He set his leg down and leaned back in his chair.

"You might as well know," he muttered.

Alex made a face.

"Might as well know what?" he asked.

Sean sighed.

"A couple of months ago Terry and I went on a mission," he said, "And there were...unforeseen side-effects."

Hank steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them.

"Such as?" he asked.

Sean drummed his fingers on the table.

"We were working with another operative," he said, "No, occasional operative. Occasional because he's insane."

"How insane?" Alex asked.

"Has multiple personalities kind of insane," Sean said.

Alex shook his head. He couldn't feel particularly worried, even though Sean's tone was clipped.

"You've worked with nutcases before," Alex said, "You shouldn't take it so hard."

"Yeah, well I do because apparently all of those personalities are in love with my daughter," Sean snapped.

There was a long pause around the table.

"You're shitting me, aren't you?" Alex said.

"No," Sean hissed.

Hank cleared his throat.

"Well, I see every reason why you would want to be protective of your daughter," he said, "But if you only work with this...individual on occasion, then it shouldn't be too hard to deal with."

"Not that simple," Sean said.

"Why not?" Alex asked.

Sean sighed and took a deep swig of his beer.

"Because she likes him too," he said.

There was another silence.

"Okay, now you're shitting me, right?" Alex said.

"I wish I was," Sean moaned.

He rubbed his face with his hands.

"Just...how...it makes no sense!" Sean said, "I hoped that she'd find some nice guy like Madrox or something-"

"He's a tool," Alex said.

"That's not fair," Hank said.

"Okay, fine, he's a square then," Alex said.

"He's not schizophrenic!" Sean said, "It's a start."

"I understand how you feel," Hank said, "I really do. I wouldn't want anyone like that around Sharon."

"Thank you!" Sean said.

Hank cleared his throat again.

"Even so, she is old enough to make her own decisions," he said.

"I know that," Sean snapped, "I just wish she'd make better ones, that's all!"

Alex couldn't stifle his laughter. Both of his friends turned to him as he picked up his beer and held it aloft.

"The cry of fatherhood," he said, "Bottoms up."

He took a deep drink and swallowed. When he opened his eyes both of his friends were still staring at him.

"We can all hope that they make good decisions, but we can't force it on them," Alex said.

He inclined his bottle again and shrugged.

"Or you could just shoot this guy," Alex said.

"It wouldn't help," Sean said.

"So disapprove, but don't be the bad guy," Hank said.

Sean ran his hands through his hair.

"Maybe," he said, "Maybe."

He glared at both of them.

"But it's still a bad decision," Sean said.

"Of course," Hank said.

"Damn right," Alex said.

He inclined his beer for the third time. This time his friends clinked their drinks against his.

"To fatherhood," he said, "and children who grow up to make their own decisions."

* * *

"Is this really what you want to do Kurt?" Charles asked.

Kurt nodded. Charles looked down at the permission form. Moira stood behind him, silently reading it.

"I first found out about it online," he said, "I'm not very good with computers, but it seems fairly straightforward really. I did some searches and I found this."

Charles shuffled the paper around, although there wasn't anything else to it. There was a church in Boston that was being restored after an accident. The construction crew was going to consist of volunteers who would be doing other community service projects over a period of a few months.

All of those months would be spent in Boston. It would end by the time the Westchester college term started, although after the high school one did. That wasn't going to be a problem for Kurt though.

Charles set the form down on the table.

"By the time this happens you'll be eighteen," Charles said, "I don't think...you wouldn't really need our permission if you waited a few more months."

Kurt made a face and swallowed. Charles frowned, his son looked very uncomfortable, but stayed silent.

"I want your permission though," Kurt said.

Charles felt Moira walk in front of his desk.

"Kurt, what made you want to do this?" she asked.

His son made an abortive gesture with his hand.

"I sketched the church once when I was on that road trip with David," he said, "It was old, but beautiful. And...if someone doesn't fix it up, then I know that they're going to demolish it. And..."

He paused and licked his lips.

"...I just can't stand the idea of that happening to someplace like that," he said, "Not when I can help it."

Moira laughed softly.

"Kurt, that's a very you thing to say," she said.

"That's what David said when I told him," he said.

Charles flattened his hands on his desk.

"You told your brother about this?" he asked.

Kurt's tail moved behind him, the motions a little erratic.

"Yes," he said, "I just...I was only considering it, and I wanted to hear an opinion on it when I wasn't really serious on it."

Charles tapped his chin. He knew his sons were close, and he wasn't bothered with them sharing secrets. They were brothers, and that was what siblings were for. However, he remembered the look that Kurt had given him when Charles had said that he didn't need his permission if Kurt waited for a few more months.

Somehow he knew that Kurt already knew that, but he knew Kurt didn't think that way. David had pointed it out to him. Charles couldn't help but feel the brief, irrational pain that flared up.

"And he's actually seen the place," Kurt said, "I mean, I know that I showed you the pictures that I did, but it's not the same. I just want to be there to help it out. It was one of the funnest stops on the whole trip."

"Right before you got into a fight with a criminal organization," Moira said, "That was probably the most exciting."

Kurt wagged his tail, his expression sheepish.

"It was the most exciting, yeah," Kurt said, "Not the funnest though."

He looked hopefully at Charles.

"But if you guys could sign this, it'd be great," he said, "I'd like to send it in soon."

Charles looked down at the form and rubbed his temples. He wanted to refuse, to tell his son no. Even though he encouraged Kurt to participate in the world, there was still that little part of him that was afraid for his son. Kurt didn't look normal and there were still so many ignorant people in the world.

He couldn't afford to think like that though. He had to have faith, or there would have been no point in any of his work.

"Your mother and I will discuss this," he said, "We'll tell you at dinner tonight."

"Thanks," Kurt said.

He started to leave, but Moira put a hand on his arm.

"Kurt, have you heard from David?" she asked, "He's at that age where he doesn't call his parents too often."

"He called two nights ago," Kurt said, "He's doing fine. Nothing too interesting, but fine."

Moira nodded.

"That's all I needed to hear," she said.

Kurt's tail swished through the air and, in a puff of black smoke, he disappeared.

"We need to start telling him to take the stairs," she said.

She turned to Charles, smiling. Her smile slipped a little.

"Charles?" she asked.

"Four months seems an awful long time," Charles said.

"It does to me too," Moira said.

She sat down in a chair next to him. Charles raised an eyebrow.

"And you were being so positive," he said.

"Well, you have to be positive at the beginning," Moira said, "Otherwise you're all doom and gloom like you were."

"I wasn't all doom and gloom!" Charles said.

"Mmmhmm," Moira said.

She peered over at the consent form.

"I'm not sure how comfortable I feel sending him away," she said, "The road trip was bad enough, but David was there. And now Kurt wants to do this alone..."

He clasped her hand.

"It's frightening," he said.

"He really wants to do it," Moira said.

She bit her lip.

"I just...I worry about him when I think about him going out there," Moira said, "I think I've worried about him since he was a baby."

"Natural worry of a mother for her son," Charles said.

She squeezed his hand back.

"You never seemed to worry like me," she said, "Get all silly like I am."

"Believe me," Charles said, "I worry a great deal. Just about other things."

He thought briefly of David and shook his head.

"I don't think we need to worry about Kurt," he said, "He's peaceful, and his mutation is perfect if he needs to make a quick escape."

"I know," Moira said.

Charles pulled her hand to his lips.

"We just need to have faith that he'll be safe," Charles said.

"Yes," Moira said.

She laughed.

"I'm still calling every few days though," she said.

"Me too," Charles said.


	42. Chapter 42

April 27, 1992

David rubbed his forehead and looked at the deposition that he was supposed to write. The case seemed complicated, and he knew that his teachers had purposely made it so. His teachers must have made this one up. He didn't think that there was a case that was this technically complicated in the entire world.

At the same time, he had seen firsthand how complicated court cases had been. He'd been over Hank's case in the Supreme Court a million times. It was, in short, the basis of every single mutant rights bill ruling for the next few decades. It was dismaying how many ways that it had been twisted and the loopholes that had been found.

He positioned his hands over his keyboard and began to type. His words seemed clunky, but it was a good way to start. He could always go back over it later and edit it. It was one of the beautiful things about computers that typewriters just hadn't been able to capture.

After a few minutes he saved it on his floppy disk. While computers were amazing he didn't trust them not to crash. A floppy disk would protect everything for a while, and David still didn't own a printer.

It was past seven by the time he finished with his rough draft. He'd missed dinner at the cafeteria, but he figured that he could heat something up in the microwave. He had plenty of frozen food, and he'd never gotten too hungry.

David got up and stretched. As he did so he looked at himself in the mirror. He'd lost some weight since he'd started college four years ago. The dark circles under his eyes were a little more pronounced, but he was pleased to see that his eyes weren't quite so red anymore. The dark circles didn't really bother him anymore: he was pulling all nighters, and for once his lack of sleep was caused by something natural.

He popped a meal in the microwave, he didn't bother to see what it was, and waited for it to heat up. As he did his phone rang. David sighed and picked it up. Sometimes he wished that he hadn't gotten a cell phone, but he'd seen what a problem that could be from the road trip. At least they had gotten smaller.

He flipped it open and put it up to his ear just as the microwave beeped.

"David Xavier," he said, "What's up?"

"You sound tired. Is this a bad time?"

David laughed and pulled his food out. Now that it was done he could see that it was pizza.

"Nah Sharon, just had some boggling homework to do," he said.

Sharon called at least once a week. Now that things were getting a little more normal with her mother she had been able to contact him more. He was glad. He didn't have too many friends at college. Feeling lonely wasn't really in his repertoire, and no matter what he always had Kurt as his best confidante.

Still, it felt good to have someone to talk to that wasn't related to him from time to time.

"I know that feeling," Sharon said.

"Not the law school breed of the feeling," David said, "It gets pretty bad sometimes. I can't keep my circuits straight sometimes at night, and the other day I started muttering conditional clauses under my breath."

Sharon laughed on the other end.

"I'll have to figure it out," she said, "You know I want to be a lobbyist, right?"

"Terrible decision," David said, "No offense."

"None taken. I'll just make sure to hire you all the time when I get difficult cases," she said.

"That's just mean," David said.

He flopped down on his chair and put the plastic microwave dish on his disk. He fished out a soda from the mini fridge beneath his desk and popped the tab.

"So, anyway, what's up?" he asked.

"Nothing much," Sharon said, "Just life really. I've got a few reports due and everything. College life."

"Yeah, college life," David said.

At nineteen Sharon had been in college for nearly two years. She took after her father in his intelligence, and had gotten her pick of colleges. In the end she'd chosen Howard University, about an hour's commute from her home through downtown traffic. David knew that she'd preferred to find a college close to home, although he couldn't quite understand it.

He figured that Kurt would do something similar though, maybe even attend college at the Institute. It was like him.

"Have you heard from Terry lately?" Sharon asked.

"No," David said, "She's off saving the world. Although..."

He looked around instinctively, even though he knew that no one was listening in.

"Hear who she's dating?" he asked.

"Of course! My dad still talks to her dad," Sharon said, "Can you believe it?"

"Sort of," he said, "Terry always was one for taking chances."

"And I'm not?" Sharon said.

Her tone was playful, but David still winced.

"You're too smart for that," he said.

"Eh," Sharon said.

David didn't know what to say, so he just sipped his soda.

"Hear he's a real nutjob," David said.

"That might be relative," Sharon said, "Not everyone who hears voices is crazy you know."

"Speaking as a fellow skitzo, I think that I'm a pretty good job of what's nutty and what's not," David said.

There was a pause on the other end and David winced. He hadn't meant to bring up the voices.

"You're not crazy David," Sharon said.

"Let's agree to disagree," David said.

"Stop being dumb," she said.

He laughed.

"Never," he said.

David could practically hear her shake her head on the other end of the line.

"Is everything cool with you?" Sharon asked.

Her voice sounded worried. David rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm good Sharon," he said, "I really am."

He continued rubbing the back of his neck.

"By the way, my brother should be starting his volunteer program in a month," David said.

Sharon sighed.

"I heard about that," she said.

David smiled, feeling relieved that she had dropped the subject.

"He's really looking forward to it," David said, "I'm a little worried about him, even though I know that I'm just being stupid."

"You're an older brother, of course you're worried," Sharon said.

David grabbed his microwave pizza. It was a little cold now, but it wasn't bad.

"People can just be stupid sometimes," he said through a mouth of chewy crust and plastic cheese, "Anyone who looks different-"

"You know who you're talking to, right?," Sharon said, "I have white hair and cat eyes."

"Sorry."

"Come on," she said, "I look a little like a cat. Big deal. I'd like to see how all those idiots would react to my full cat form."

"How's that coming?" David asked.

She'd shown him her cat form once, and David had been impressed by the control she'd had. She'd still been humanoid, but her skin had become covered in smooth white fur. She'd grown claws and her teeth had elongated into fangs.

"I can do a full on transformation," Sharon said, "I can't actually become a cat, which is probably for the best, but I'm kind of a were-cat now. It's kind of cool."

"Kind of?" David asked.

"Okay, it's awesome," Sharon said, "Not sure if it'll have any part in my life, but still."

"Same goes for my telepathy," David said.

He levitated his soda into his hand.

"The telekinesis isn't bad though," he said.

"And neither is the advanced senses, although I know not to drive too close to the city's dumpsters or people with too much perfume," Sharon said.

"Is that a problem?" David asked.

"At dad's soirees and all those little parties?" Sharon asked, "Yeah, it's a problem."

"Redefining smelly politicians," David said.

He grabbed for his pizza and began eating it in earnest. He wished he could just finish it so he didn't have to keep being hungry.

"Smelly people in general," Sharon said, "There are some real slime balls out there."

She paused. He frowned as he heard her shift the phone and lower her voice.

"David, can I ask you for some advice?" she said.

David stopped eating his pizza.

"Sure," he said, "I'm not sure how good it'll be, but you can ask."

"I have faith in you," Sharon said.

He wondered why that was.

"David, I'm worried about one of my friends," she said, "She's not eighteen yet, and I think she's being mistreated at home."

It was serious. David sat up straighter.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Odd bruises, anything nice I give her gets 'broken' and she never gets a chance to use it," Sharon said, "I'm worried about her, but she won't tell me anything."

David clenched his phone tighter.

"Have you ever been over to her house?" he asked.

"No...and that's one of the reasons that it's complicated," Sharon said, "She's an orphan, and she's been in an orphanage since she was born."

"Was she ever fostered?" David asked.

Sharon paused.

"No...I don't think so," she said.

"Huh," David said.

"What?" Sharon asked.

He paused and rubbed the place on the inside of his cheek that he'd bitten.

"I don't know much about Child Servicese. They work with their own circuit," David said, "But it strikes me that they should have at least tried to foster her out. It's just...it's weird that she hasn't been fostered. Or at least I think it is. Like I said, I don't know too much about this sort of thing."

"I see," Sharon said.

"It doesn't necessarily mean anything though," David said.

"I got that," Sharon said.

He heard her take a deep breath on the other line.

"David, if you thought that someone was in trouble, and you could help them, you'd do it, wouldn't you?" she asked.

David suddenly felt uncomfortable. He glanced around the room, looking for an answer.

"Why are you asking me?" he asked.

There was a small silence.

"Because you're one of the bravest people I know," she said, her voice quiet.

David couldn't help but feel touched, but at the same time he felt like pounding his head on the table.

"Sharon, I'm not-"

"For once could you please not argue with me and just answer the question?" she asked.

Her tone sent him reeling. It was a command to obey, something made of steel behind the voice that he had become so accustomed too.

"Yes," he said, "I would try to help them."

She breathed out.

"I knew you'd say that," Sharon said, "You've done it in the past."

David leaned forward over his desk, the phone clenched tightly in his hand.

"Sharon, please don't do anything stupid," he said.

"I won't," Sharon said.

He paused doubtfully. Sharon must have understood, because she laughed on the other end.

"I'm the one with the higher IQ than you," she said, "I won't be stupid David, I promise."

"Okay," he said, "And don't get yourself hurt either."

"Alright," Sharon said, "Alright."

David relaxed a little.

"I have to get going, but thanks for talking David," she said, "It means a lot to me."

David hesitated, but he figured that there wasn't any harm in speaking the truth.

"Me too," he said.

"Talk to you later David," Sharon said.

"I'll be here," David said.

He waited until the click on the other end of the phone before taking his cell phone away from his face. David held it in his hand for a while, staring at it uncertainly.


	43. Chapter 43

May 30, 1992

Kurt looked at his hands. Blisters had formed on his palms from where he'd been building new choir pews with some of the other volunteers. It had all taken place under the scrutiny of a master carpenter, since they were all new to the activity. He'd been on that assignment for the past few days.

He bandaged up his hands again and sighed. He knew that he should be grateful. Some of the other volunteers had gotten much, much worse blisters. His skin was tougher than theirs though, and he'd been working with his hands for a long time. He'd already gotten a few calluses there, but the area between his three fingers had gotten it bad. People didn't make tools for people with three fingers.

Kurt rolled off his cot and looked at his sketchbook on his bed. He'd hoped that he'd had some time to draw, but his hands hurt far too much for that. He sighed and dug out some ibuprofen. Kurt dry swallowed two tablets and put his map in his pocket.

He wanted to explore Boston a little bit. He knew a few of the other volunteers were planning on going out, but he knew better by now than to think that his presence would be welcomed. Most of them were a little nervous around him, more so than Kurt had expected. He'd been under the impression that he was supposed to have a roommate, but thus far they hadn't arrived. He knew that there were more volunteers next week, so it was a possibility that they were still coming. It was also a possibility that they coordinators figured that he was best without one.

It left Kurt feeling a little strange. He'd always had friends at Westchester, Remy and Terry and others, as well as the support of his family. Kurt was a social creature. He didn't like how it felt to be without them, without even a sliver of the acceptance he had grown up with. Everyone tended to talk or walk around him. He might have only been there for four days, but a strange loneliness was already starting to set in.

More than anything Kurt wanted a phone. He'd told his parents that he didn't need a cell phone, but now he was starting to regret that decision. He wanted to call his brother or parents and just have a conversation. He even missed Remy making fun of the way that Kurt urged him to clean up his papers. Now all of his friends and family were gone. As a result there was always too much silence when the work was done for the day, where people avoided him because they didn't know what to make out of him.

He glanced at the clock. He had a few hours. Kurt knew that there was a payphone in a diner two blocks down. While he was down there he could get dinner. It would work out perfectly, and if he timed it right he would be back in time for curfew.

Making sure he had his wallet Kurt teleported out. He arrived a block away from the diner and put his hands in his pocket. He walked towards the diner, attracting a few stares as he did so. Boston wasn't quite as used to mutants as New York, and even there he got stares.

As Kurt rounded the corner he saw a woman digging in a green bag and frowning. Kurt paused. She was dressed differently than everyone around her, her clothes colorful and loud. Her dress was fire engine red, matching her shoes. He saw that she was wearing several bracelets as well, and her hair swayed slightly in the breeze. It was tied up with a blue scarf, only highlighting her golden hair.

Her face was turned away from him, but he could see that she had slender features, and her eyes were animated as she pulled out a map. She looked the map over and frowned. The girl's skin was pale, and she moved her hair out of the way, revealing large golden earrings.

Kurt kept looking. She was, quite bluntly, the most beautiful girl that Kurt had ever seen. He knew that he was being creepy by looking at her though, so he turned his head slightly. He saw her bite her lip as she looked at the map, and he wondered if she was lost.

He swallowed as he looked at her, unsure of whether or not he should go up and say something. After the events of the past few days he wasn't sure how people would react to him asking if they needed help.

Still, he had to gather up his courage at some time. No matter what happened, it couldn't be worse than what he'd been going through for the last few days. He kept trying to remind himself of that as he walked up to the girl.

"Are you lost?" he asked.

The girl turned and looked at him, her blue eyes wide. Kurt felt like shrinking back, or possibly teleporting back to his dorm room and hiding under the bed for a while. She continued to stare at him for a while before speaking slowly in tentative English.

"Do you...speak German?" she asked.

Kurt blinked at her and the girl nodded, as though she had gloomily expected this outcome. Somehow Kurt found his voice, the appropriate words in German coming to his lips.

"Yes," he said, "I speak German."

Her eyes widened again and she smiled. When she spoke again, her German came out fluently.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes, I took a couple of years in high school," he said.

"Thank goodness," she said, "I'm supposed to be meeting my brother in about two hours, but then I took a wrong turn and I've been wandering around for about an hour. I'm not sure exactly where this is. As you can see, my English isn't so great."

She gestured around him.

"I've been to a lot of cities and I don't think I've ever gotten as lost anywhere as I have in Boston," she said, "No offense, but your city is completely, completely messed up."

Kurt laughed.

"I'm from New York actually," he said, "So no offense taken."

She laughed too, her voice bright. Kurt smiled.

"Am I asking the wrong guy for directions then?" she asked.

"No, I'm pretty good with maps," Kurt said, "Can I see?"

She nodded and handed him the map. Kurt looked around at the different street signs.

"I can't really read English very well at all," she said, "He circled where I was supposed to meet him, but I'm not sure where it is. I think I should've told him I wasn't so good at this, but things were pretty busy."

"Okay," Kurt said.

He turned the map slightly, and then pointed down the road.

"It's not too far from here," he said, "You'll want to just go down this road for about ten minutes and then turn a left. There's going to be a restaurant there, a café I think, that he wants you to meet you at. It's called Lily's."

"Oh, thanks," she said.

He handed her back the map. Kurt got ready to go back to the diner when she cleared her throat.

"How long should that take?" she asked.

"Oh, um, about twenty minutes I should think," Kurt said.

She nodded and tucked the map back inside her bag.

"Then I have some time to kill," she said, "And what kind of person would I be if I didn't get my knight in shining armor something to drink?"

She gestured to the diner, and then paused.

"Or eat, or whatever," she said.

She tilted her head back.

"Unless you have something to do of course," she said.

She was smiling and Kurt felt his heart pounding in his head. He wanted to just teleport away, but he paused. Hadn't he been hoping for just this sort of thing, a human conversation? Hadn't he come down to the diner for this express purpose?

So he swallowed and smiled back.

"Nah, I wasn't headed anywhere," he said, "I hear they do a good chocolate milkshake, if you insist."

"I do," she said.

They walked into the diner together and sat down. The girl picked up a menu and squinted at it before giving up.

"I'll just have that milkshake you mentioned," she said.

"Fair enough," Kurt said.

He put his own menu down. The girl smiled.

"So, you're from New York?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "I'm down here on a volunteer project. We're fixing up an old church, as well as a few other community service projects."

"Oh, that explains the bandages," she said, "Do a lot of carpentry there?"

"You can tell?" Kurt asked.

"I saw our master carpenter's son getting his training," she said, "So, yeah, I've seen those kind of bandages before."

He cocked his head.

"Where do you come from?" he asked.

She spread her arms wide.

"The World Famous Munich Circus!" she said, "We'll amaze, we'll astound, and children under nine get in for half price!"

She tossed her hair and Kurt stared, fascinated.

"You're from a circus?" he asked.

"That's right. We're spending the next few months here," she said, "It's our first American tour, which explains my horrid English and my tendency to get lost."

She shook her head.

"I swear, I can speak passable French and decent Russian," she said, "Why do I suck at English?"

"It's not as bad as my German during my first semester," Kurt said, "I couldn't get the accent right."

"You've got it pretty good now, so I guess practice makes perfect, huh?" she asked.

The waiter walked over. Kurt, still staring at Amanda, held up his hand.

"Two chocolate milkshakes please," he said.

"Got it," the waiter said.

Kurt didn't even watch him leave.

"What's your act?" he asked.

"Acrobatics," she said.

"Seriously?" he asked.

He remembered when he'd proclaimed his intention of being an acrobat when he grew up. While it looked like that wasn't going to happen, it certainly looked like he was going to be able to talk to one.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm trained in both trapeze and the silks. I kind of prefer the silks, but trapeze is more of a family event."

"Your whole family's acrobats?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," she said, "Only my brother and I are in the act right now. My parents only do shows every so often. They're getting older."

The waiter came with the milkshakes. Kurt took an absent sip of his.

"That's really amazing," he said.

"Thanks," she said.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Kurt could have sworn that he saw her blushing.

"But, yeah," she said, "Enough about me. What about you? Besides the volunteer project?"

Kurt didn't know what to say. It seemed like anything that he told her would appear woefully boring. The X-men were definitely off limits, but it wasn't as though Kurt were even a member. For the first time in his life Kurt felt like he might be a little boring.

"I'm studying to be an art teacher, or I will be when I start college in the fall," he said.

"You draw?" she asked.

"I prefer to paint, but yeah, I draw," Kurt said, "Mostly landscapes, but I do a few people."

She smiled and looked at her watch. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"It looks like I'm going to have to get going," she said, "My brother pitches a fit when I'm late."

She put a few dollars on the table and got up. Feeling strange Kurt smiled.

"It was great meeting you," he said.

"Same," she said.

She paused and put her hands on her hips.

"We should do this again sometime," she said, "Are you free...Thursday around three?"

She grinned.

"It's nice to have someone to talk to," she said.

Kurt exhaled slowly.

"That would be great," he said.

"Alright. See you then...sorry," she said, "I never caught your name."

"Oh," Kurt said.

He laughed and held out his hand. A minute later he remembered his bandaged, unusual-looking hand. He swallowed. No one he'd encountered outside the Institute had felt comfortable shaking his hand, and he started to inch his hand away.

"Kurt Xavier," he said.

Her small hand wrapped around his and shook it before he could pull it away. Kurt felt a slight electric jolt as she did so.

"Amanda Szardos," she said.


	44. Chapter 44

June 21, 1992

Sharon looked at the building in front of her in disbelief. She glanced back down at the address that she'd written on the back of her hand, trying to make sure that the numbers weren't smudged. They weren't. It was the correct address.

She looked back at the building. Given Rahne's clothes and other possessions she'd always imagined that she was in one of the poorer orphanages in the area. Sharon was aware that there were such orphanages in the nation's capitol and tried not to bring it up.

Instead of seeing the slightly run-down building that she'd been expecting, it was pristine, and in a good neighborhood. She shifted her backpack and looked around, glancing back at her car. It was nearly midnight but Sharon had no qualms about parking it in a public lot. This wasn't the kind of neighborhood where cars got stolen.

She skirted the building and looked up at a tree on the side of the house. She took a deep breath before climbing it. Sharon kept telling herself over and over again that she was insane, that she shouldn't be doing this, and that she should go back home and go to bed.

There was certainly a lot of things going on at home. Her father had heard rumblings of a Mutant Registration Act that would be introduced by a long term enemy of his: Senator Kelly. Sharon had learned to hate the man early on when he had dismissed the attack on her and her mother as an isolated incident.

Still, she couldn't go back. Rahne had promised to meet her on two separate occasions. She'd missed the first one and called to apologize and suggest the next week. Sharon had been wary, but dismissed it. The second time had been that afternoon. She hadn't called at all.

She finished climbing the tree and looked at the window. Rahne often said that there was a tree by her room, and that was enough for Sharon to think that she was on the right track. Besides, the air smelled a little like another shapeshifter. Dogs might not be great climbers, and Rahne was rather canine, but sometimes everyone needed a little escape.

Sharon inched forward on her branch and sniffed deeply. She smelled Rahne and moved forward. She was at the right place. Although Sharon still felt a little crazy, she tapped on the glass and waited.

She didn't have to wait long: Rahne had excellent hearing. She quickly saw the outline of her friend's face on the other side of the window. Rahne was surprised, and Sharon couldn't blame her. Sharon plastered on a fake smile and waved.

"Heya," she said, "I brought cookies."

She shifted her backpack. had actually brought cookies that her mother had made. Sharon's attempts to make them herself had failed miserably. She thought it was a decent enough excuse to try and see her friend, even if she was late.

As she watched her friend's surprise eroded into fear. Sharon gripped the branch tighter, feeling her fingertips trying to turn into claws. Something had happened.

"Sharon, it's really late," Rahne said.

She took a step back, further into the darkness. Sharon cocked her head.

"I know, but you were late today," she said, "I was worried that you weren't feeling well."

"I'm fine," Rahne said, "I just forgot."

Sharon had to fight to keep from narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"I know you didn't," she said, "Look, it's okay if you're not feeling well you know. I just wanted to-"

"Sharon, you need to leave," Rahne said.

Her friend's voice cracked as she moved further away from the window. Sharon looked around, fighting for inspiration. She wondered what David would do, but she dismissed the idea. It would be better if she used someone else as an example. David could be indelicate at times.

She thought of her father, but ultimately settled on her mother. Sharon set her voice on a gentle tone, one her mother had used many times. It was soft, but Rahne would still be able to hear it through the glass because of her enhanced hearing.

"Rahne, you might think that it's none of my business," Sharon said, "But...well, we're friends. And that means something to me. The word 'friend' means someone that I look out for, that's a family member who doesn't share any blood."

She could hear Rahne shuffle her feet and Sharon swallowed.

"And I want to make sure that you're okay," she said, "I said you could tell me anything once. And you can. You have someone that you can tell anything to now. I won't judge you you know. Because you're my friend."

She grinned, knowing that her canines were flashing.

"Besides," she said, "Us shapeshifters have to stick together."

She heard Rahne give a choked sob. Sharon's smile fell off as the window opened. She immediately slipped inside, taking it as an invitation. She couldn't quite make out her friend in the darkness, but it was taken care of when Rahne turned on a lamp.

Sharon stared at her friend. Rahne's face was swollen with bruises, her lower lip fat and bleeding. She looked like she had a scar above her left eye. In her sleeveless pajamas Sharon could see that there were other bruises on her arms, all of them angry and purple.

For a moment Sharon felt like snarling, demanding to know who had hurt her. She'd find them and she'd show them what pain really was, and just how much could be inflicted when it was done in defense, what kind of scars she could leave.

Then, instead of saying that, she walked up to Rahne and hugged her. Her friend burst into tears and clutched her back. Sharon didn't say anything as they stood there, Rahne sobbing and Sharon staring straight forward.

An hour could have passed like that for all she knew. What she did know was, in the end, she was able to sit her down. Sharon used her shirtsleeve and started dabbing Rahne's eyes. She wondered if she should offer to get her some water, but Sharon wasn't sure where anything was.

After Rahne calmed down a bit Sharon breathed in.

"What happened?" she asked.

"What always happens," Rahne said, looking down, "He got angry."

"Who's he?" Sharon asked.

Rahne continued to look down.

"Reverend Craig," she said, "He...he runs this place."

She gestured vaguely with her hand.

"He doesn't...I...he doesn't like that I have friends now," she said.

Once more Sharon felt the snarling desire for vengeance. Instead she stayed where she was, her mind whirring away.

"Rahne, how long has this been going on?" she asked.

Rahne burst into a fresh round of tears.

"Ever since I can remember," she said, "Before my mutation happened it wasn't so bad but after..."

Sharon breathed in.

"Does he do this to anyone else?" she asked.

"No," Rahne said, her voice bitter, "He says that they're not demons."

Sharon gritted her teeth.

"We're getting out of here," she said.

"What?" Rahne asked.

Sharon stood up and Rahne stared at her.

"I'm taking you home with me," she said, "And we're getting a lawyer, and then we're going to make sure that he pays for what he did."

"Sharon, I don't think that will help," Rahne said.

"It won't help if you just stay here and keep getting hurt," Sharon said, "Rahne, this is serious. What if he breaks a bone next time?"

Rahne looked down again, but Sharon had already seen the look in her eyes. It looked like she was too late to save her friend from that.

"I know this is scary," Sharon said, "But you can't stay here."

"I don't want to," Rahne said, "But...but..."

Sharon knelt in front of her and grasped her friend's hands.

"Rahne, you are an amazing person," she said, "And you deserve so much better than this. Don't you understand this? Do you think you're a demon?"

"No," Rahne said, "Not since...not since..."

She started crying again.

"Not since I met you," she said, "You're like me but you're not...you're so kind and you...you care so much about me..."

"You deserve to be cared about," Sharon said, "We weren't put on this earth to suffer, and I'm so, so sorry that someone made you think differently even for a second. You were made for a much better life."

She squeezed Rahne's hands.

"But you need to get out of here," Sharon said, "I know that you trust me, but you're going to have to decide this for yourself. And-"

She was cut off when the door was flung open. Sharon whipped her head around and saw a middle aged man with dark hair standing there. Sharon had no idea who he was, but Rahne immediately flinched, and Sharon knew. She felt her hackles rise.

"What in God's name are you doing here?" he snarled.

Sharon let go of her friend's hands and rose to her feet.

"I'm here for my friend," she said, "You're not going to hurt her anymore."

Craig laughed and took a step inside.

"What lies has the little monster been telling you?" he said.

"She's not the monster here," Sharon said.

Craig squinted. Sharon knew that the light was dim, and he must have only just made out her slitted eyes and white hair. His own eyes narrowed and Sharon tilted her head up higher.

"Ah, I see," he said.

"No, you don't," Sharon said, "Your kind never do."

"Sharon," Rahne whispered, her voice meek.

"My kind?" Craig said, "I hardly see what that has to do with it. Now leave my property immediately or-"

"You'll call the police?" Sharon asked, "Fine."

She put her hands in her pockets, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Inside her heart was pounding away. If he did call the police she could get them to take a look at Rahne, if her friend would speak up. If not she could imagine the scandal that a senator's daughter breaking into an orphanage could cause.

Her parents would understand though. There were more important things to worry about than scandal at the moment. She continued to look Craig in the eyes as his gaze became more and more disdainful.

"You're rather defiant for the one who's in the wrong," he said.

"Am I though?" she said, "I can think of several laws you've violated, as well as all sense of moral decency."

Craig laughed again. It was unpleasant sound.

"Sometimes the laws of man come second to those of God," he said, "I am simply obeying the higher power."

Sharon snorted. She thought of her mother, of the silent prayers that she had prayed as a child for her parents. Obviously they weren't on the same page.

"You, following God's laws?" she asked, "That's the worst damn thing I've ever heard! You're trampling on them! I know God, and trust me, you're not doing his work!"

Craig's face darkened. A moment later Sharon felt a fist connect with her jaw. She fell to the floor, but caught herself on all fours. She scurried to the side and caught his next fist as it came down. Her father's self-defense lessons hadn't been for nothing.

Another fist came around and Sharon got ready to block it. Instead she saw two furry arms grasp it and hold it back. Sharon stared as a terrified-looking Rahne held his arm back. Craig turned and snarled at her.

"Let go girl!" he said.

Rahne swallowed.

"No," she said.

"What?" Craig roared.

"No!" Rahne said.

She pushed him back and Sharon let go. He hurtled into the wall. Sharon looked at Rahne's terrified face and jerked her head to the window. Rahne nodded and pushed Sharon towards it. Sharon climbed onto the tree and waited for her friend to come out.

Rahne was halfway out the window when a hand came through and tugged on her leg. Rahne started to fall but Sharon grabbed her arms and stared at Craig's face. It was a face that she recognized from nightmares when she'd imagined the men who had put the explosives in their car.

Her friend turned her head and, for a moment, Sharon thought that she was going to cry again. Then, in a second, something changed and Sharon saw her eyes flash amber. She lashed out with her foot, kicking Craig squarely in the face.

He let go and Sharon pulled Rahne into the tree. The two of them quickly climbed down. Sharon could see Rahne's fur growing by the second, her animal-like form faster than climbing with clunky human hands. Sharon followed suite. By the time the two of them hit the ground they were both fully transformed.

She saw the front door open and she grabbed Rahne's arm. The two of them ran down the road, the sidewalk a blur before them. They reached Sharon's car soon and she unlocked the door. Rahne got into the passenger seat and Sharon floored it.

Half an hour later they parked in front of her parent's house. When Sharon looked over at her friend she saw that she had turned back into the girl that Sharon had first met in the library. Her shoulders were shaking, her body racked with dry sobs.

Sharon reached over and hugged her friend.

"It's okay," she said, "It's okay now."


	45. Chapter 45

June 24, 1992

Kurt stared out the window. Amanda wasn't sure what she should say, if she was even supposed to say anything. Her new friend had always been so upbeat in the short time she had known him, though it seemed like she had known him for much longer than a few weeks.

She had been surprised when she'd first met him. His appearance was, to say the least, shocking. However, she had grown up in a circus around people who were heavily tattooed or had enough piercings to fear magnets. It was all one to her after a while.

Amanda was glad that she'd gotten over it quickly. With everything going on the circus since they had come to the states Amanda had felt herself getting left out more and more. It was why she had jumped on her brother's invitation to dinner so quickly. She hadn't actually had a conversation with him in what felt like forever.

As a result of her getting lost she'd gained a great friend, one that she saw several times a week. He was so eager to talk about anything and everything. He was also helping her improve her English. As a result of his care and attention she was making rapid progress.

He was always there to talk to her, his interest in her and genuine attention touching. They had gone sightseeing around Boston together, and she'd told him about her childhood and family, her fears about being pushed aside at the circus. In turn he'd told her about growing up at a school, told her that her family wouldn't really leave her behind. She'd known that but, somehow, it had meant the world to have someone say it.

It hurt to see him upset about something. He seemed agitated, his arms crossed and his tail swishing back and forth. She wondered if it was the other volunteers. Although Kurt hadn't exactly said anything to Amanda, she could read in between the lines enough to know that the rest of the volunteers didn't really accept him.

However, there was no way of knowing until he told her. She waited patiently as he shifted his gaze from the window to his milkshake. She sipped her own soda and waited. Her mother had always told her that, when something was bothering someone, they would tell you when they were ready.

Amanda wasn't quite sure if she believed that. She believed that there was a certain level of waiting that you had to do, but you had to show your willingness to listen first. He would tell her eventually. She wasn't sure just how she knew that, but she did.

She glanced at her watch. Enough time had passed.

"Kurt, is something wrong?" she asked.

She spoke in German, knowing that her English wasn't quite good enough to hold a detailed conversation yet. He shrugged and looked back at the milkshake. She poked at her soda with her straw, waiting.

"I have a friend who lives in Washington," he said at last.

Amanda inclined her head, urging him to go on.

"She has a friend," he said, "She'd written to us a few times about her."

Amanda didn't say anything: just waited.

"She didn't talk too much about her friend though," Kurt said, "Not to me anyway. I think my brother knew more about her than I did. He's always been closer to her than I was."

He pushed his milkshake away.

"It doesn't really matter," he said, "But...there were some odd things about this friend. So my friend went to talk to her one night and...well..."

Kurt closed his eyes.

"Her friend was being abused really bad," he said.

Amanda felt herself freeze and her eyes widen.

"There was an incident with her...guardian," Kurt said, his voice disdainful, "And my friend and her friend ran away. She's alright now, or at least as alright as she can be. They're trying to settle things quietly, but they're trying to put her guardian in jail and they're trying to keep her friend safe."

"I'm so sorry," Amanda said.

Kurt tapped his fingers on the table. He was always moving, always trying to spend whatever energy was pent up inside of him.

"She just...she was being abused, at least in part, because she was a mutant," Kurt said, "And it just..."

"It just what?" she asked.

"It's just that life can be tough for us sometimes," Kurt said, "And the last thing we need are the people we should be able to trust rejecting us for being different. And, well, there are all those rumblings about the Mutant Registration Act. I hope it will die in committee, but well, I've been following the political scene for a while. Every now and then something really awful happens."

Amanda swallowed. She'd heard about the act going through committee right now. Her first thought when she'd heard about it was about Kurt. He was the only mutant she knew, but the arguments for it argued that mutants were dangerous.

She couldn't believe that Kurt was dangerous though. He was just like any other person, even if he didn't look like any other person. He could do things that no one else could do. So could the fire eater and no one was coming after him. Amanda knew it wasn't quite the same thing, but it was close enough to irritate her.

Kurt had told her, when she'd asked, that the Mutant Registration Act would technically be skirting a landmark court case called _McCoy and Baulson vs. the FDA_. Amanda had asked for clarification, and he had patiently explained. His brother was studying to be a lawyer, so he knew several little things about it that made it easy to understand.

Soon she was watching the news with an uneasy eye. Amanda wasn't too terribly versed in American political procedures, but she knew that the very fact that it had made it to committee was bad. Then, with the information Kurt had given her, she had only felt even worse about it.

"All of it together is just bad," Kurt said, "And it just feels like one piece of bad news on top of another."

He shook his head.

"Amanda, I don't mean to dump all of this on you," he said.

"No, don't worry," Amanda said.

She reached across the table and touched his hand.

"What concerns you concerns me," she said.

Kurt smiled, showing his white fangs. She squeezed his hand.

"Do you really think the Mutant Registration Act will make it past committee?" she asked.

He looked up at her face.

"Amanda...I..."

Kurt cocked his head, his tail still swishing back and forth.

"I believe that people are, essentially, good," he said, "I prefer to believe that they will chose to do the right, hard thing over the easy, bad thing."

He shrugged.

"I guess that makes me a little foolish," he said.

"No," Amanda said, "Not at all."

* * *

"Luna, did you clean up your room?" Lorna asked.

"Yes!" Luna said, bouncing into the kitchen.

"She did," Angel said, walking in behind her, "I checked."

Luna sat down and made a face.

"Aunt Angel!" she said.

Angel laughed and sat down. Lorna looked over at the two of them and smiled. Alex was away giving a lecture further up in the state, and she had invited Angel over to dinner. Angel was a frequent guest at their house, and Lorna had found her a job with her company. She did secretarial work now, and her hair had started to grow back to its former length. She also looked happier than Lorna had seen her in years. She was glad.

She glanced outside the room and sighed.

"Max, dinner!" Lorna called.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Max said.

He walked into the room and pulled up a chair. At fifteen her son was becoming quite the handful. He'd already decided to grow his hair long, which had caused raised eyebrows from Alex. He hadn't argued about it though, which had made her happy since Max seemed to like his hair at a longer length. Not to mention it was far away from the military crop that Alex had once sported during his days as an X-man, a look she had feared her son would one day have.

She hoped he'd get tired of it before he got too much older though, or at least keep it shoulder-length. It wasn't a bad thing: did do something to soften some of his harsh features. He'd inherited Alex's rounded nose, but most of his features reminded her of her father.

Neither she, Alex, or Angel had said anything on the subject though. Scott, on his visits up, hadn't said anything either. Lorna wasn't sure what the point would be in bringing it up, and she was sure that the rest felt the same way.

They had yet to tell either of their children about their grandfather. Lorna wasn't sure if they were ready to learn about him. It had been difficult enough telling her children that she and Angel had once been part of the Brotherhood. In another year or so she was sure that it would be time to tell Max about her father. She wasn't looking forward to it.

Luna waved to her brother and looked across at his plate.

"You got more fries than I did," she said.

"No I didn't," Max said.

Lorna shook her head. Her children had gotten into the habit of mock accusing the other of having more food than they did. It was a game that they had played for a long time, and one that they enjoyed. It was starting to get on her nerves though.

"Both of you, settle down," she said, "I have to go check on the steaks. No fighting."

She shared a look at Angel, who laughed and turned her attention to the children. Lorna walked into the kitchen and took the steaks out. They were ready, which was good, since Lorna was starving.

Lorna had always been decent at cooking. She'd had to become so, mostly out of survival. She'd always lived with people who could never quite get the hang of an oven, first her family and then Alex, although she remembered Azazel being quite good at whipping up a stew.

She finished plating the steaks just as she heard Luna start screaming. Lorna dropped the plate on the floor and hurried into the next room. Her son was sitting on the ground, looking shocked but unharmed.

Lorna looked at the other side of the room. Angel was kneeling next to Luna, looking panicked. Luna was on the floor, clutching her hand. Lorna could see that her hand was silvery and metallic, each finger frozen in place. Worse than that, she could see that the metal was creeping up her daughter's arm.

"Mom!" she cried, "It hurts!"

Lorna knelt down and sought out the metallic molecules. She didn't understand what was going on, but whatever was happening, it was happening fast. Her daughter's entire elbow was silver now. She started pushing the molecules away, but it was difficult work. Each second brought a new flurry of whimpers from her daughter.

The minutes passed by laboriously. Lorna saw the green haze drop over her eyes and sweat dripped down from her neck. Her bones ached and she knew that Angel was holding her, keeping her up until the last of the silver disappeared from her daughter's arm.

Luna sat up, tears streaming down her face. Exhausted, Lorna gathered her daughter in her arms, Angle still supporting her. Luna immediately buried her head and continued weeping. Lorna looked questioningly at Angel, who turned her eyes to Max.

For the first time since coming into the room Lorna turned her full attention to her son. He was staring at his hands in shock. When he saw she was looking he gave her a pleading look.

"Mom, I didn't mean too," he said, "I just...I just touched her hand...mom, I swear to God I didn't mean to..."

Instinctively Lorna reached out to him. Even though he was too far for her to touch him, he screamed and scurried away.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled.

"Max-" Lorna tried.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled again.

Max scrambled to his feet. He gave a last, panicked look around the dining room before running towards the stairs.


	46. Chapter 46

July 1, 1992

Charles leaned back in bed, his head pounding away. He felt more drained than he had ever felt in his life. For the first time he felt every one of his years pressing down on him.

He had finally gone bald a few months ago. When he looked in the mirror now he felt shocked at his transformation from when he had first founded the Institute. He'd been a young man who had felt the walls of his world close in. Now he was an old man who was watching his world change yet again, and this time for the worse.

The Mutant Registration Act worried him in ways that he had never been worried before. It was a threat unlike anything that they had faced before because it was coming, not from a mad scientist or crazed militant, and not even from a court case. It was an order that could be coming from a governing body.

More than that, it was a governing body that would be willing to tell people to register themselves as if they were handguns. Charles had lived long enough to recognize a gateway act when he saw one. Once the United States passed a Mutant Registration Act, other countries would pass their own. If that happened then, soon, they would be living on a planet where governments could pinpoint the location of any mutant that they wanted at any time.

It was too close to the world that Erik had described during their old chess games. He had been worried that something like that would happen, that no one would give mutants the credit that they deserved for their part in history or accord them the same rights given to humans. Charles was dismayed that his old friend's observations seemed to be coming true.

He had been both surprised and pleased to see how quickly his former students had taken action. Hank had immediately begun fighting against it as soon as he heard of its existence. He had recently brought his campaign to the next level and was tirelessly arguing on any public forum that would have him, and there were quite a few.

Sean and Terry were, as far as he was aware, starting protests within their own line of work. There were several mutants who were already registered as agents in their particular branch. However, there were special clauses that protected their identities from other governmental branches. The introduction of the bill would change all of that, and they were making sure that everyone was stirring up a storm.

Warren was hosting a fundraiser in a few weeks, as well as a general meet and greet, to discuss blocking the bill. He was considered a medical authority on the subject of mutation since his company produced so many specialized medical products for mutants. His funding had put supported many politicians, and Charles knew that he was hoping that they would come through.

Down in Florida Calvin and Clarice were speaking up for the disadvantaged youth, organizing petition drives and trying to tell the younger generation that nothing was wrong with them. They didn't only work with mutants, and it did touch Charles that several of the non-mutant teens and children in their programs were speaking up for their fellow children.

Alex and Lorna had continued their programs as well, arguing against the bill. Things had changed dramatically since the full extent of Max's mutation had made itself known though. Alex had immediately stopped his speaking tour and come to the Institute along with his son.

Lorna was still in Alaska. As Charles understood, Luna was still undergoing treatment for blood poisoning. Lorna might have been able to stop her daughter from turning into metal, but she hadn't been able to prevent all of the damage.

Max was nearly beside himself. Charles wasn't sure if there was going to be any good way to contain his mutation. They had done a few tests, and it appeared that any living material he touched turned to metal. At the moment Max was making do with turtlenecks, long sleeves, and gloves. It was eerie how much he looked like Erik in them.

Alex was making arrangements for Max to stay at the Institute full time. Charles knew that it dismayed him to have his son so far from home, but they didn't have much of another choice. Alex needed to go back to his job, and his support was needed more than ever with the new bill. He didn't want to leave his son though. Charles knew that it was probably tearing Lorna up that she had to stay in Alaska while her husband and son were in New York. As far as Charles knew this was the first time the family would be separated by such a distance.

Max wasn't the only troubled student that they were accepting. Rahne Sinclair's court case had been settled as quietly as possible: her former guardian going to jail, but the fine had been dropped. It was the only way to wrest Rahne's guardianship away from him quickly. They'd managed to arrange her to be transferred to Westchester's care.

Rahne was, as he understood, coming from years of terrible abuse. Craig had rarely let her out of the house and, given everything that Charles had heard, it was a miracle that she had managed to become friends with Sharon at all.

Sharon would, along with her mother, escort Rahne down to Westchester soon right after they went to Warren's fundraiser in Connecticut. Sharon was worried about Rahne, but there was only so much she could do with everything that was going on.

It was cruel, but the world was moving on and leaving both Max and Rahne behind. In a few days Alex would have to leave Max and Sharon would have to leave Rahne because the people pushing for the Mutant Registration Act didn't care that there were crises happening.

It was a bitter thought, but they would probably use Max as an example of a dangerous mutant if they knew about him. His powers were still so uncontrollable. Rahne could be held up as an example too, although not like Max. They would say that the Act would give her access to services that would have protected her. If only it were true: any services would be overshadowed by the dangers the Act would produce. More people like Craig would be able to find her.

Charles already knew that they were using one of his newer students, Kitty Pryde, as an example of a potentially dangerous mutant. She had arrived at the Institute shy and small, always pulling herself away from others. This new revelation would be a shock to her self-esteem.

There was more bad news on the way though. Hank told Charles that it looked like the Mutant Registration Act was going to clear the committee that afternoon, and that the Senate was going to hear arguments for and against it soon. Charles's blood had run cold when he'd heard that. It was going to make it to the Senate floor. An act identifying members of the population, setting them aside, was going to make it to the Senate floor.

Hank had told him that he was setting up a forum to try and discuss why mutants weren't a threat to the population. They had always tried to fight ignorance and fear with knowledge after all, and now Hank needed some experts.

Charles'd had to struggle to stay on the line, but he'd managed to tell Hank that he would have Jean prepare some arguments. Charles and Jean were both accepted as experts on genetics, but Jean was a doctor. They might accept her testimony better.

On top of that Scott had tracked some increased Brotherhood activity in Canada. In a few days he and Ororo were going to go up there. It made Charles feel like despairing. The last thing that they needed was the Brotherhood responding to the Mutant Registration Act in their own unique way.

He felt the bed shift and opened his eyes. Moira laid down beside him, putting one arm on his chest. He grasped her hand and stared at the ceiling.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Charles shook his head.

"No Moira," he said, "I'm not."

He felt her curl closer to him. He wrapped his other arm around her, his other hand resting in her hair.

"We were supposed to be giving our children a better world than the one that we were given," Charles said, "Now I'm worried that we're just going to give them a worse one."

He thought of his two sons, one in Massachusetts and the other in Connecticut. They were going to start their lives soon, and he'd hoped to give them a good world, one where their hopes and dreams could come true.

Instead he'd watched in dismay as things had changed for the worse. It seemed like something was blocking them at every turn, fighting their efforts to improve their world. Now he was looking at a world where, if he failed, his sons would live as numbers on a list somewhere.

If he let that happen then his failure for both of his sons, not just David, would truly be complete.

"We're not beat yet Charles," Moira said, "Not by a long shot."

"I know Moira," he said, "It's like nothing we've faced before though."

"So?" Moira asked, "We'll figure a way out of it. We always do. But..."

"But what?" Charles asked.

Moira shifted.

"Charles, I got an invitation to speak at a conference in California," she said, "It'll last a few days and I'm sure that there are going to be plenty of politicians there."

"That's wonderful," Charles said.

"It is," Moira said, "But it overlaps when Jean's going to be speaking in Washington. I know...I know that you'll want to be with her when that happens."

He swallowed. The idea of her being so far away when everything was going on was a hard one.

"Do you want to go?" he asked.

"I think that I should," Moira said, her voice quiet.

"You're usually right," Charles said.

She reached up and touched his face. Charles turned on his side to face her, his movements awkward as he dragged his useless legs. Moira moved to help him and he let her. At the beginning of their relationship he'd always been far too proud to let her help him, and he supposed that it had only solidified his resistance to letting her into his life. Like many things, he was glad that he had let that go.

"Moira," he said, "Don't get me wrong. I will miss you. But...well...sometimes our work takes us to different places."

"I'd be here if I could," Moira said.

Charles held her tighter.

"Moira, it's enough that you married an old fool like me," he said, "Everything that we've been through since you met me in that pub, Erik, my sister, the Brotherhood, Sinister, everything..."

He kissed her on the forehead and looked her in the eyes.

"I'm not sure how I would have made it without you," he said, "And the fact that I'm fighting this alongside you, knowing that we're fighting for the exact same thing, makes me want to try even harder."

Charles could see tears in her eyes even as his own vision blurred.

"I need you," he said, "I think I always have. And everything that's going on, the Mutant Registration Act, our family's troubles..."

He thought about David and a sharp pain came into his heart.

"...knowing I'm facing them with you gives me strength," he said.

Moira let out a choked laugh.

"Why do you always make me cry when you tell me you love me?" she asked.

"I don't mean to," he said.

"It's alright," Moira said.

She smiled, wiping away a few stray tears.

"I don't mind it so much anymore," she said.


	47. Chapter 47

July 26, 1992

"This is where you perform?" Kurt asked.

Amanda nodded proudly. For the first time since he'd seen her, her long golden hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was also wearing a leotard and tights. She'd told Kurt it was her practice uniform, but it showed off a great deal of her shape. He'd never seen quite so much of her legs either. All in all, he'd had to fight his blushes hard when he'd first seen her.

He'd brought it on himself. Amanda had offered to take him into one of her practice sessions, and he'd accepted. He really couldn't do anything else. Acrobatics had always interested him, even if he wasn't going to be an X-man.

She led Kurt through the performer's exit into the main arena. Kurt felt out of place there, as though he were seeing something behind the scenes that was known only to a few. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel the colors that swirled around him. It was a world of brightness, and it made sense that Amanda came from there.

"It's beautiful," he said.

"I thought you'd appreciate it," she said.

Amanda stretched backwards and grabbed her ankles with her hands. Kurt sat down, putting his bag next to him. It had his sketching materials with him, along with his favorite colored pencils. He'd figured that he'd get a lot of inspiration.

She got back on her feet and cracked her neck.

"How's the work on the...church coming?" she asked, stretching towards the ceiling, "Church is the right word, right?"

"Right," Kurt said.

Amanda's English had made amazing progress since they had first met.

"It's almost finished," he said.

In some ways he was glad that he would be going home soon. None of the other volunteers had warmed up to him beyond the occasional 'hi.' They hadn't been very receptive to him, and with the Mutant Registration Act looming most people just wanted to forget about mutants. It was a problem they didn't want to have to deal with.

At the same time, he'd be leaving Amanda behind. He didn't like that thought.

"Hm," Amanda said.

She looked at him strangely as she finished stretching. Kurt wanted to ask, but another figure stepped into the arena. Kurt could make out dark hair, a complete antithesis of Amanda's golden looks. He made a face at Kurt as he walked up to her.

Kurt was prepared for the German when it started.

"This Kurt?" the man asked.

"Yes," Amanda said.

She pointed to the man.

"Kurt, this is my brother Stefan," she said, "Don't mind him too much though, he's a jerk."

"Only because you are," Stefan said.

He reached out and playfully shoved her. Amanda got her balance back and tossed her ponytail.

"Next time I'm supposed to catch you I'll just drop you instead," she said.

Stefan rolled his eyes. He gave Kurt one last, odd look, before he headed towards the trapeze.

"I'm bringing down the silks right now," Stefan said, "So don't try to do too much to impress your friend, okay? We don't want anyone to get hurt because you're a showoff."

He gave Amanda a stern look and she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she said.

She turned and winked at Kurt before heading towards the trapeze. Kurt folded his hands in his lap and watched as the two of them headed up the side of one of the beams. He saw that Stefan grabbed a lever and pulled it.

Two sheets of multi-colored silk dropped down from the ceiling. Amanda walked up to them and wrapped them around her forearms. She looked at Stefan, who nodded. A second later she stepped off the platform, swinging to the other side.

Kurt watched in amazement as she slid down the silk, twirling amongst the colors. He could see her hair glinting brightly, as well as the fierce joy in her face. This was where she had gained her confidence from, her innate ability to talk to a complete stranger who looked like a demon and barely bat an eye.

He saw her laugh as Stefan joined her. Her brother slid down one of the sides of the silk before tapping her foot. Amanda let go of one of the silk sheets and Stefan grabbed the other one. They pushed off the beams, twirling around each other but never quite meeting.

Barely knowing what he was doing Kurt got his sketchbook out. He started to draw with the colored pencils, not bothering with the pencil he normally used for outlines. There was no point. Amanda was all color and life, and that couldn't be contained with anything as crass as a black pencil outline.

He kept looking up, seeing the way that her hair mingled with the different pieces of silk, her body controlled but free. He knew this was just a warm-up routine, that her real practice for their act would happen later. At the same time, he felt entranced.

Kurt was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't notice footsteps.

"Kurt, right?"

Kurt dropped his pencil and looked up. A woman with dark hair but bright blue eyes looked down at him curiously. Unlike Stefan, he saw the resemblance immediately.

"Yes Mrs. Szardos," he said.

She waved her hand dismissively.

"Please," she said, "Call me Margali."

Her English was surprisingly better than Amanda's had been. She sat down next to him and looked up at her children.

"They work well together, don't they?" she said, "Graceful, light. It's what happens when you're trained for a long time."

Kurt thought of the X-men and nodded. Margali glanced over what he was drawing. Kurt quickly rested his arm on it, covering the picture. He knew exactly what it had been that he was sketching, and how it looked. Margali raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

"Amanda has told us much about you," Margali said.

"Only good things I hope," Kurt laughed.

He knew how nervous he sounded. Margali cocked her head.

"Oddly enough, yes," she said.

Kurt swallowed. He glanced back up at Amanda, still swirling in color and light.

"Oh," he said, "Well, she's very kind."

He turned back to Margali. She tilted her head.

"You seem like a very polite young man," she said, "And that was a very beautiful picture."

Kurt clutched the edge of his sketchbook. She'd seen.

"I have a good sense for these things," Margali said, "I'm glad."

Margali looked from Amanda back to Kurt.

"For both of you," she said.

Despite himself Kurt felt his face flame. He ducked to hide it up, but from Margali's smile he could tell that, like the picture, she'd seen it too. He felt a little strange there, as though some sort of examination was going on that he didn't know about.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Amanda slide down and hurry over to him. He quickly shoved his sketchbook into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Mom, what are you doing to Kurt?" she asked.

Her voice was slightly panicked. Margali laughed.

"I didn't tell him about that time when you were seven, if that's what you're talking about," Margali said, switching to German.

Amanda relaxed. Her brother walked next to her and put an arm on her shoulder.

"Is that it? Well I can do that," he said, "It was her first time in the big top alone and-"

Amanda shoved her brother. Stefan laughed and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Hey, are they serving lunch yet?" he asked, "I'm starved, and dad's in charge of the grub today. He's making spaetzle, right?"

"He is," Margali said, "We'd best get going. Amanda? Kurt?"

Amanda pulled her hair out of her ponytail.

"I was going to show him around a bit more first," she said.

"Alright," Stefan said, "Your loss."

Margali headed out of the circus tent. Stefan narrowed his eyes a minute at Kurt before smiling and following Margali. Amanda sighed before resuming the conversation in German.

"My family's a little embarrassing," she said.

"It's okay," Kurt said, "Wait until you meet my brother."

Amanda shook out her hair, airing it out.

"Is he coming?" she asked.

"I was going to invite him and some friends to the circus opening night, if that's okay," Kurt said.

Amanda smiled.

"It's fine. I'll get you some good tickets," she said.

She inclined her head towards the silks that fluttered in the air.

"Want to come with?" she said, "I need to make sure they're alright before I pull them up. You could take me: I figure that your 'bamf' is pretty on target."

"My bamf?" Kurt asked, "That's what you're calling it?"

Amanda shrugged. He grinned at her.

"Sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"Yeah," Amanda said.

Kurt grinned and took her hand. He teleported the two of them in front of the silks. Amanda coughed and stumbled into his side. He held her steady and she smiled up at him.

"I told you it would be fine," she said.

Kurt laughed. He leaned back and jostled his bag. His sketchbook fell out and he reached for it. Amanda picked it up first, the pages flipping to the very page that he'd been dreading.

Amanda stared at the page. Kurt knew what she was seeing. He'd drawn her on the silks, surrounded by color. He'd drawn her hair down even though it had been pulled back. She was drawn beautiful and full of life, her face enraptured. It was drawn softly, beautifully, as if the artist were completely taken in.

She looked up at him, her eyes soft.

"Is this how you see me?" she asked.

Kurt swallowed. He wished that he had secured his bag better, that he had hidden the drawing or not done it at all. His hands began to sweat as he nodded slowly. There was really no point in lying to her. Not anymore.

Amanda let the sketchbook drop out of her fingers. She put her hands on his shirt and pulled him forwards. The different colored silks moved for them, and her hair seemed to blend with them once again. Then she kissed him and all thought fled.

Kurt's eyes widened as her hands wrapped around his neck. She felt so soft against him, a light contrast to his dark, textured skin. He closed his eyes and let his hands slide down her back, tasting her sweet flavor and feeling her warmth.

She pulled away and gave him a lighter kiss on the side of his mouth. Kurt breathed out slowly.

"I think I'm falling for you."

The words came out before he knew that they were even on his tongue. His eyes widened in surprise and he looked up at her, worried. Amanda smiled softly and let her arms slide down to his shoulders.

"You know why I invited you here?" she asked.

Kurt didn't answer. He felt too nervous.

"I wanted to share something with you, something about me," Amanda said, "And I...I told my family how I felt. It's why they were being so weird. They knew."

She cupped his face and he pulled her closer.

"I think that I might feel the same," she said, "And I know that everything is crazy right now, but-"

Kurt cut her off with a kiss. He wasn't used to kissing people, so he knew that he almost missed her mouth. He certainly clicked against her teeth. Amanda kept kissing him though, her lips turned up into a smile.

He moved away slightly.

"I'm a good correspondent," he said.

"Me too," Amanda said, "We'll be in the U.S. for awhile, and after that, well, like you said, correspondence."

She continued smiling.

"And Kurt?" she said.

"What?" he asked.

Amanda hugged him. Kurt turned his head to the side, burying his face in her golden hair.

"I am so happy I got lost that day," she said.

* * *

_**A/N: **Three more chapters left to go. _


	48. Chapter 48

July 29, 1992

"-so I'd really like it if you came."

David switched the hotel telephone from one shoulder to another. He waved his hand and made his shoes tie themselves.

"When is it going to be again?" he asked.

"Well, it's in four days," Kurt said, "But it's opening night, and the Munich Circus is supposed to be really good."

"Hm," David said, "I think that I have a few days off from my summer classes."

He pulled a tie out of his bureau and threw it around his neck.

"You don't need to do summer classes you know," Kurt said.

"I'm trying to graduate as quickly as possible," David said, "You have no idea how long it takes to pass the bar exam. I want to have a lot of credibility, and I want to have some things to back me up."

He knew his brother wanted to tell him to go home over the summer, to say that David rarely went home. He was in a hurry though, and he didn't feel like getting into it.

"So what's this girl's name again? Amanda?" David asked.

"I've told you her name about a million times," Kurt said.

David smiled. His brother rarely talked about anything else when David asked him how the project was going. David was looking forward to meeting the girl that his brother was so obviously smitten with.

"Alright," he said, "And you're inviting Remy too? Why?"

"I think he might like it," Kurt said.

"And?" David asked.

"Why do you think there's an and?" Kurt asked.

"Because there always is," David said.

He began tying his tie, holding one of the corners in his mouth.

"I think if Uncle Scott doesn't get a break from him then he's going to go insane," Kurt said.

David laughed, spitting the tie corner out.

"Unfortunately, it's true," he said.

He glanced at his watch.

"Kurt, I've got to go," he said, "But yeah, get me a ticket. I'll be there."

"Thanks David," Kurt said, "It means a lot."

David wasn't sure why that was, but he decided not to argue.

"No problem," he said, "See you."

"Bye," Kurt said.

David hung up and hurried out the door, barely glancing at himself in the mirror. He looked presentable, and that was enough. He was running late. He practically leapt down the stairs. David made sure that he ran a hand through his hair before he went into the crowded ballroom though.

Slowly but surely he made his way up to the front. He grabbed a drink on the way and found a good place to stand.

"What's so wrong about being different?"

David looked up at Warren on the stage, one of his hands holding a glass of champagne. His wings were tucked nonchalantly behind his body, his face a picture of relaxed serenity as he addressed a group of prominent politicians and investors.

Then again, there were a few people like David in the audience. The fundraiser for the opposition forces for the Mutant Registration Act had happened in Connecticut, and David supposed that Warren had asked him to attend out of respect to his father. He was just one of many in the crowd, and he had yet to find anyone that he knew.

It was an interesting experience. David wasn't sure if he would be to many of these events in his future unless he ran for District Attorney or something, but he didn't know for sure. It was certainly turning out to be an interesting experience.

"Worthington Industries has based its foundation on being different, on expanding our horizons," Warren said, "And with the recent partnership with Trask Industries, we're pushing our horizons even further."

He waved one of his hands.

"See, as a society we claim to emulate the power of the individual to change their world, to be different and unique," Warren said, "But at the same time, we fear what is different. Why?"

_Because you're not different, you're freaks!_

David fought the urge to growl. He was getting sick of getting called a freak by his own mind. Up on stage Warren shrugged.

"Beats me: I'm not a psychiatrist," he said.

Laughter rippled through the room. Warren threw his head back and laughed, his attitude light, like a man among friends.

"Well, I can say one thing for sure: I don't agree with it," Warren said, "So let's show Kelly just how much we all don't agree with him tonight. What do you say to that?"

There was a round of applause and a few whistles. Warren inclined his glass before throwing it back in one. David couldn't help but admire his manner and attitude. He knew that a lot of money was going to be raised that night, money that was going towards fighting an act which would require him to register his mutation with the government.

"He certainly does know how to speak."

David turned around, surprised. Sharon stood behind him wearing a floor-length blue dress. It hugged her curves and emphasized how tall she was. Her white hair was still loose and fluffy though. His mind immediately went back to what she had looked like when they were younger, running around in her overalls, striped shirt, and bare feet.

In that moment he was acutely aware that they weren't children anymore. He gaped at her for a moment before recovering.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I could say the same for you," Sharon said.

"True," David said, "I was invited. Warren probably respects my father or something."

"Or he knows you're training as a lawyer an thinks this'll be good for you," Sharon said, "I think Warren knows you look up to him."

David shrugged and tried some of the wine. It was expensive tasting.

"None for you?" he asked.

"I'm nineteen, remember?" she asked.

"No one's watching," he said.

"I'm a senator's daughter," Sharon said, "No underage drinking for me. It won't end well. It's one of the universe's laws."

"I'll give you that," David said.

"Besides, my mother's here," Sharon said, "I don't want to do anything to embarrass her. She has this way of making you feel guilty without saying a single word."

"My mother's always been a bit more vocal," David said, "But your father's not here?"

Sharon sighed and shook her head.

"No," she said, "My father's still in Washington, fighting against that bastard Kelly."

There was a pause. Sharon turned to David, her eyebrows raising.

"What?" she asked.

"It's just...you swore," he said.

"Yes?" Sharon asked.

"Well, I've just never heard you swear before," he said.

Sharon had always seemed to well spoken, too erudite to swear.

"If you met Kelly, then you'd understand," she said, "He's the one who described what happened to my mother as an isolated incident. He said politicians had been targeted since the beginning of history and that my father should stop whining about it."

David narrowed his eyes.

"He said that?" David said.

"Oh, it was wrapped up in political talk, but I knew it for what it was even when I was a child," Sharon said.

David looked out over the crowd.

"Then you're right," he said, "He is a bastard."

"I knew you'd agree," Sharon said.

She leaned against a nearby pillar. David stood next to her, frowning at her expression.

"You okay?" he asked.

"A little tired," she said, "We're dropping Rahne off at Westchester in a few days."

David sighed.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

"Not as bad as she could be, not as good as I'd hoped," Sharon said, "It took a lot out of her, getting out of there, then we went through that stupid court case, and now we're taking her to New York. Peachy."

She waved her hand absently.

"Thank God for email," Sharon said, "I promised to write every day. She needs a lot of support right now."

"Is she here too?" David asked.

"No, she's back at the hotel," she said.

"That's probably for the best," David said.

Sharon crossed her arms.

"I feel like a terrible friend for just dumping her at Westchester," she said.

"Hey, hey," David said.

He put a hand on her shoulder.

"You can't stay there," he said, "Not with everything that's going on. I mean, you don't have much of a choice, all things considered. And you plan on visiting soon, right?"

"Of course," Sharon said, "Once all this is over."

She turned away, looking miserable.

"This isn't going to be over any time soon though," she said.

"No," David said.

Sharon nodded.

"I thought as much," she muttered, "Hey, great job Sharon. You got your friend out of a bad situation and then you just ditched her."

He wasn't going to let that stand. He finished the last of his drink and placed it on a nearby table.

"You're doing your best," David said, "Having other things in life, especially when they're as unselfish as this, doesn't make you a bad friend. You've done so much for Rahne, and I bet she understands."

He looked at his hand where it was on her bare shoulder. David hesitated before switching it to her other shoulder so he was almost hugging her. He could tell that she needed it.

"Sharon, you've probably done more for her than anyone's done for her in her entire life," David said, "And you care so damn much. It's why you're still worried about her, and I know that she knows that, that she appreciates it. It's comforting in its own right to know that someone out there cares about you."

He smiled nervously.

"Trust me," he said.

Sharon looked up at him.

"Thank you for saying that," she said.

"I mean it," he said.

He paused and tilted his head.

"Sharon, do you think that Rahne might enjoy going somewhere and just having fun for a bit?" he asked.

She furrowed her brow.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, my brother told me about an amazing circus act in Boston, if you don't mind the detour," David said, "I'm sure I could get tickets."

Sharon's eyes lit up and she smiled. Then she frowned.

"My mother needs to get back to Washington-" she started.

"I could take you two and she could go on ahead," David said, "I was going to go up there anyway, and I could take you to Westchester after that. You still don't have a car, right?"

"I have a car," Sharon said indignantly, "It's just in Washington right now."

"Alright, but I can do it," David said, "You don't have to decide right now, but let me know tomorrow. You have my cell."

"I do," Sharon said.

She paused, and then tilted her head slightly. A second later she leaned in. David felt her lips brush his cheek, felt the sparks that travelled from the spot through the rest of his face and throughout his body. She pulled away, still smiling, although a little more shyly.

"Thanks," she said.

"What are friends for?" he managed.

Sharon ducked her head and slowly disconnected herself from his grasp.

"My mother's probably wondering where I am right now," she said.

"Yeah," David said, "Probably. Yeah."

She nodded quickly before slipping away into the crowd, leaving David touching the spot where she'd kissed him

* * *

Carly watched as her daughter stepped up to the second floor balcony of the ballroom. The balcony was deserted: most people were downstairs enjoying the food and company. Sharon waved cheerfully to her, even though Carly thought that something was off about her. Although she knew what it was, she didn't say anything until Sharon joined her side.

"Sharon, did you just kiss David on the cheek?" she asked.

Her daughter flushed.

"You saw that?" she asked.

"I don't have enhanced senses like you and your father," Carly said, gesturing over the side of the balcony, "I have to search the old-fashioned way. Your hair tends to stick out in a crowd."

"Oh," Sharon said.

She shrugged.

"He uh, he said something nice about what happened with Rahne, and then he offered to do something really nice," Sharon said, "Just a kiss on the cheek between friends mom."

Carly turned to look at her daughter, at the way that Sharon looked like she wished that they weren't having this conversation. At the same time Carly could see something else there: pain.

"You really like him, don't you?" she asked.

Sharon hugged herself.

"It doesn't really matter," she said.

Carly felt an ache in her chest. This wasn't just a matter of her daughter liking David. Carly recognized the look in Sharon's eyes, eyes that owed more to her father than to Carly. She could see the depth of feeling there, something that obviously been building for years.

She pulled her daughter into a hug. She seemed so tall now. Sharon wasn't a little girl anymore: she was nineteen. The idea that she had grown up so much was painful, as was the thought that Carly had missed five of those years.

She was there now though, and her daughter needed her.

"It's not a bad thing, what you're feeling," she said, "You shouldn't you think differently, and don't you dare let anyone tell you differently. It's not stupid to love someone. It never is."

She heard Sharon take a deep, stuttering breath.

"And it's not stupid to go after someone either," Carly said, "The only stupid one is David if he doesn't feel the same way. And I hear that David's smart."

Although Sharon didn't say anything, she held her closer.

"Thank you mom," Sharon said.


	49. Chapter 49

August 3, 1992

David sat next to Kurt and Remy, his hands on his armrests. A little further down Sharon and Rahne were sitting together. Rahne was looking around, her eyes bright. The circus was brilliant, the different lights floating and colors shining beautifully. Sharon was smiling, and David knew that he'd made the right decision inviting them.

Rahne had been shy at first. David couldn't blame her. She'd was rather wary of Remy, but she also seemed rather curious about him. He figured it was because Sharon was friends with him and barely knew Remy. Of course she would have heard stories about him at one point or another.

Remy, for his part, was kind to her. David had made sure that he knew Rahne wasn't someone who would take to Remy's remarks and personal digs very well. David was pleased to see that he took it to heart. Remy was annoying, but he wasn't a monster.

As such Rahne was enjoying herself in a public place, possibly for the first time in her life. She was with friends, and he hadn't missed the grateful way that Sharon looked at him from time to time. It really made him feel as though he had done something good.

It was a good scene, but he knew it wasn't perfect. Outside he knew that the world was rumbling ominously. The Mutant Registration Act would reach the floor in a few days. Dr. Grey had given a presentation that had gone almost completely unnoticed. Despite Warren's fundraising efforts, he knew that their opposition was growing.

Scott had told him that they'd found signs of suspicious Brotherhood activity up in Canada. David couldn't imagine what they were up to in Canada, but he knew that their plans always seemed strange before they spiraled into something complicated and dangerous. He hadn't talked to anyone about his worries with the X-men though: if his opinion had been wanted he would be a member.

Kurt said that their father seemed tired the last time he'd talked to him. David didn't talk to him often, but he knew that times were stressful and that his father had often relied on his mother in such times. At the moment she was halfway across the country. David knew that Kurt was going to try to convince him to stay for a few days when he dropped Sharon, Remy, and Rahne off at Westchester. He didn't think that he would.

At the moment he could forget it all though. He could even forget the United Nations meeting that was happening that night so many miles away. It was easy to forget it all in the joy on Rahne's face and the happiness on Sharon's. Then there was the dreamy look in his brother's eyes. David had a pretty good idea of what had caused that.

He waited as the crowd clapped and cheered. He saw the ringmaster step into the middle of the ring.

"And now, announcing the death defying thrills of the Szardos siblings!"

The lights shut down, plunging the entire arena into darkness. He saw that Remy went to light up one of his cards, but David put his hand out and shook his head. Remy snorted and leaned back.

One of the lights turned on. He saw a man in his mid twenties, his costume a swirl of colors and his skin decorated in different symbols. David figured that it must be Stefan. His brother had told him that Amanda often performed with her brother.

The music started. He grabbed a trapeze and catapulted himself into the air. He grabbed the next one and swung back and forth, gaining enough momentum to do a double turn in the air before he had to grab the next one.

It was impressive as he moved back and forth, never holding onto one handle for more than a few seconds. David remembered when he had trained in the Danger Room, how he had never quite managed the more complicated tricks. Kurt had though, and he'd been impressed. He was impressed now too, but David was still waiting. Where was Amanda?

He had no doubt, now that he'd been given an opportunity to think about it, why Kurt had wanted him there that night. He knew he'd complicated things by bringing Sharon and Rahne as well as Remy, but that couldn't be helped. It just meant that there would be more of a crowd when Kurt made what David was sure would be an interesting announcement.

The lights rotated and Stefan swung out of them. The music moment momentarily stopped. When he swung back into them the music began again, and he was pulling a young woman. Her golden hair was pulled back into a ponytail and glittered in the lights. Her skin was painted with different colored swirls, her costume matching her brother's.

Amanda. There was no one else that she could be. David looked at his brother's rapt attention, and then watched her. Her eyes were bursting with life and her grace reminded David of his brother's own movements. She looked ethereal as she performed, and David could see how the two of them could have grown close if she was as sunshiny as she looked.

Stefan let go of her and she caught a trapeze on the way down. The two of them leapt around each other, occasionally meeting mid air to tag each other or give the other a boost to another trapeze.

They stopped in the middle and thick strips of silk were lowered from the ceiling. Amanda and her brother each grabbed one and kicked off of the main posts. They twirled around each other, once more only occasionally meeting each other.

Amanda slid down the different pieces of cloth. For a moment he thought that her eyes met Kurt's she turned into a triple flip. He smiled to himself and folded his hands in his lap. David felt at peace now, flush with understanding, and the world seemed further away than ever.

He watched as she let go and grabbed onto the same set of silks as her brother. She slid down them before flipping upside down, twisting the different strips around her arms. Her brother kicked off of a post again and the two of them were sent flying in a circle over the audience.

Amanda and her brother slid down the silks and launched themselves into the air one final time. They twirled before landing together, their hands up. The entire circus erupted into applause. David looked at his brother, but he was just staring. David thought that their eyes met again and smiled. Then the lights went out and they were gone.

When the lights went back on he looked over to his brother. His eyes were still dreamy, and David had no doubt that he wasn't seeing the performers in front of them anymore. He was still in a world of movement and color.

David gently tapped Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt?"

Kurt turned to him, his eyes wide. David gave him a knowing look and Kurt ducked his head. He saw him blush and David leaned over to him.

"Do you have something you'd like to tell me?" he asked.

Kurt laughed a little.

"I love her," he said.

David just smiled wider.

"And her?" he asked.

Kurt's grin was the only answer he needed. David clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm happy for you," he said.

* * *

Charles wheeled down the hallway, his arms feeling tired but his heart racing. What was Erik doing? Rogue was a mere child. She had just turned seventeen, and now he had kidnapped her and was planning to sacrifice her for his own goals.

He thought of the man he'd met what seemed like an eternity ago. Would he have crossed this line? Charles didn't know. Something told him that he wouldn't have, that he hadn't been this far gone when the Brotherhood had been founded. Soon after he'd found Lorna, and Lorna would have never let him do this.

Lorna hadn't been with him for nearly twenty years though. Erik had been left to his own devices, and the people he recruited for his Brotherhood were increasingly unstable. Scott and Ororo finding Sabretooth in Canada had been alarming to say the least. They had run into him before, and the results had been terrible.

So much time had passed since they had first met. He wondered if all that time was making his old friend desperate. In a way he understood. So little progress had been made for equality. The Mutant Registration Act seemed to show Erik that everything he had feared was coming true, and that nothing he had done had helped prevent it in the slightest. Nothing Charles had done had prevented it either.

Erik's words echoed in his mind, spoken in a mocking tone as Charles struggled to keep him from murdering the police at the train station. He remembered pleading with him that there would be no round-ups, no numbers, that it wouldn't be that way. Erik's reply felt like a knife into his chest.

"Then kill me and find out."

For a moment he had felt helpless, thinking about Erik, about the policeman whose forehead was being torn apart slowly by the bullet. He didn't know if he could save everyone. In the end he wouldn't kill him, because it wasn't who he was. He couldn't do that because his students were still looking up to him, because of one of his X-men who was his friend's daughter, because he had sons that he wanted to be able to look in the eye. It was difficult, but he couldn't bring himself to kill Erik, despite everything that he'd done.

Charles wondered if Erik was a little insane now, driven there by pushing everyone away and losing his only child, the woman he'd believed to be his most faithful disciple. There was an edge of desperation in his voice when he spoke, in the tension in his stance. Charles wondered if he was a little insane too, because he felt that same desperation when he thought of the future.

The doors to Cerebro opened and he took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind. He supposed it didn't matter anymore, any of it. They had to stop Erik from attacking the United Nations and murdering the delegates. If he was allowed to continue then there would be no chance for their cause, none at all.

First he had to find him though. He supposed that he could pinpoint Rogue. He had found her before, and he figured that she would be the easiest. He hoped that Erik didn't have anything to block Cerebro from finding her.

If he did find her they would have a fight on their hands. Charles reached the end of the pathway and took another breath. Logan, despite his reservations, would fight with them. He was sure of it. He cared about Rogue more than he admitted, a stray like himself that he could help. It would swell their numbers slightly, but they would still be outnumbered with Remy in Boston with Kurt and David and Sean and Terry overseas.

Alex had already gone back to Alaska. Although Max knew how to fight, Charles knew that he was still too unstable to put out into the field. It was incredible that, despite how many X-men they'd had since Cuba, there would only be four tonight. Everyone else was too far away to give proper reinforcements. Everything had happened so fast: there had been no time to gather the troops.

Although, in some ways, it dismayed him, their lack of numbers also comforted him. It meant that Moira was in California. No maniac could ever poison her when she was so far away from the fighting. It meant that his sons were in Boston and far away from the battlefield. No gunman was going to threaten them. They were all ignorant of the coming battle.

He looked at Cerebro, his breath finally calming. No matter which way the battle went, they were not going to be harmed. The consequences of what happened would eventually touch them, but not tonight.

His family was safe. As selfish as it was, it was a good thought. The thought comforted him enough to pick up the helmet and concentrate. It was the last comforting thought he had for a long time.


	50. Chapter 50

August 4, 1992

"It's been amazing meeting you," Rahne said, "That was a great performance. I've never been to a circus before."

Amanda smiled. Kurt stood next to Amanda, his arm over her shoulder. Remy had already gone up, citing that he felt like practicing his cards. The rest had stayed downstairs, but David knew they would have to go upstairs soon. It was late and they would have to start for Westchester early.

David saw Sharon look at Rahne and Amanda and grin. Rahne had done little more than talk about how amazing the performance had been through dinner, and Amanda had patiently answered her questions.

"This detour was worth it," Sharon said, her voice low.

"I was hoping it would be," David said.

Sharon turned to him.

"You really made a difference to her," Sharon said.

"Please, it was just a circus visit," David said.

Sharon touched his arm. David remembered the electric kiss on his cheek only a few days ago. He wanted to reach out and touch her skin again, but restrained himself.

"One day, and one day soon," Sharon said, "I hope that you give yourself half the credit you deserve."

"You make too big a deal out of things," David said, rolling his eyes.

Sharon rolled her eyes.

"One day, you'll see yourself for what you really are," she said.

She smiled at him before moving away. David watched her for a minute and then cleared his throat, feeling strange. Kurt left Amanda's side and walked up to David.

"I've got to get going," he said, "They close the doors to their area at two, and it's one thirty right now."

"You're walking her home?" David asked

Kurt grinned shyly, his tail wagging back and forth.

"I'll be right back afterwards," he said.

David smiled at Kurt's eagerness. On the way back to the hotel Kurt had walked holding Amanda's hand. They made a strange couple to look at, but with their matching grins David couldn't help but notice how perfect they were.

"Alright, but not too late," David said.

David winked and Kurt's face flamed. He laughed as his brother spluttered over his words.

"I wouldn't...David, that's just-"

"I'm just messing with you," David said.

He punched his shoulder.

"I'm happy for you," David said, "She seems like a great girl."

"Thanks," Kurt said.

His brother rubbed the back of his neck.

"No idea how I'm going to tell mom and dad about this," he said.

David felt the world slow down.

"Wait, you haven't told mom and dad about Amanda?" he asked.

"I've mentioned her briefly as a friend," Kurt said, "They...they don't know how I feel. I just didn't know how to tell them, and I thought that it would be easier after I told you."

David leaned against the wall.

"You told me first?" he asked.

"Of course," Kurt said.

He looked back at Amanda. She inclined her head towards the door.

"I've got to go," he said.

"Alright," David said.

Kurt grinned and walked over to Amanda. He took her hand and Amanda made her excuses to Rahne. Then, in a flash of black smoke, they were gone. Rahne smiled and then yawned. Sharon put her hand on her shoulder.

"We've got to get some shut eye," Sharon said.

She looked at David and frowned.

"David, are you okay?" she asked, "You look a little...weird."

"I'm fine," David managed, "Just a headache."

He waved.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said.

He walked out of the room, his pace even. Once he was out of their sight he started running up the stairs. He didn't quit running until he reached his hotel room. David fumbled with the lock before he got in.

He shut the door slowly and leaned up against it. Remy was slumped in their hotel room. David suspected that he'd been raiding the mini-bar. Normally he'd make a plan to give him a talking-to, one loud enough to make his hangover painful. At the moment it was immaterial.

The room seemed as though it was spinning slightly. Amanda was the first girl that Kurt had fallen in love with, and he had told David first. Remy, Sharon, and Rahne knew, but that wasn't the point. They had come for other reasons, and he hadn't straight-out told them. David had come because Kurt had been trying to introduce Amanda to David first.

He was glad that the two of them were in love. His brother deserved all the happiness he could get. David knew that he'd had it tough over the past few months, being rejected by the other volunteers and having to contend with the Mutant Registration Act. Amanda was something good that had come out of all of that.

David pushed away from the door and walked to the hotel's balcony. He looked over the street, feeling a little tired. He knew that the world was spinning around them, that they were on the brink of something terrible. He wasn't sure how he knew that it was going to be terrible, but he did. All they were experiencing now was the calm before the storm, and it promised to be a terrible storm indeed.

Yet, in the middle of it, he found himself wondering about an action that his brother had taken. It seemed silly, but he was old enough to know that, despite cataclysmic events, life kept trundling along somehow.

In all reality, it wasn't that different from what he'd been doing for years. He'd shown Kurt his acceptance letter to Yale before he'd told his parents he'd even applied. He'd done that because he trusted Kurt when he was unsure how he felt towards his father. Kurt had done it because he had craved his approval and support, possibly more than he'd craved that of his parents.

He turned his hand over and looked at the scar on his palm. He remembered grabbing his brother's tail and cutting his hand open, the act of a defiant and desperate child to make another child feel better. It had been to silly to think that cutting his and his brother's hands to participate in a childish ceremony would change things.

It hadn't changed anything. All it had done was reaffirm what he had already felt for his younger brother, what he'd felt since the moment he'd seen his mother holding Kurt in the living room. He wasn't alone, would never be alone. Not now that he had a brother.

His actions had given what he and his brother were a name: blood brothers. It was deeper, in some ways, than if they had actually been born brothers. Brothers didn't have to fight against their own fears, didn't have to forget that one of them wasn't considered their actual brother in the eyes of some.

For some reason Kurt had always looked up to him. He remembered Sharon telling him once that he was easy to look up to, that he was brave. She always told him that he was more than he was. David wished he could believe her. She was so smart, so amazing, that he found it unlikely that she was lying.

Kurt had always pushed David to be better, even when he wasn't very proud of himself. David still wasn't very proud of himself, didn't know how he could be. He'd done so much that was wrong, messed so much up when he'd been trying to do the right thing. Even his ideas about redeeming himself had gotten himself branded as an even worse failure.

And through it all, Kurt had believed that he was a good person who could come through it all. David wanted to laugh at his brother's blind faith in him, but he also wanted to cry. The world was falling apart and his brother still believed in him.

David looked at the stars and found himself wondering about his father and mother. What were they thinking that night, the Mutant Registration Act only days from going onto the floor? How were they feeling as they watched their lives' work erode? How did they feel about the world that the next generation was getting?

A profound sympathy entered him, as well as anger. His parents had fought the good fight for so long and received so little reward in return. This was what it was all coming down to, and it was terrible to think of. Hadn't they both deserved better?

_You've all got what you deserve. Finally. _

_Shut up, _David thought.

_What, upset about being told the truth you freak? Upset that someone can finally-_

_Shut up! _David screamed.

The voice fell silent. David gripped the handrails and concentrated. After a moment he felt the blood coming out of his nose. He sank to his knees and gritted his teeth, fighting the feeling that he was breaking. He wasn't broken, no matter what anyone believed.

He opened his eyes and breathed in the night air. For the first time, he wondered if anyone besides him had actually seen him as broken. Kurt never had. It was becoming more and more apparent that Sharon hadn't. His mother hadn't.

Then there was his father. David felt tears come to his eyes, tears of disappointment. David wasn't broken, but he began to wonder if he would have broke himself being part of the X-men. All he'd wanted to do was to make things right with his father, to apologize for being angry that he had to hear others' thoughts, for not waiting for him to save them at the hotel, for not being patient afterwards as his father tried to help. Instead he had ruined what he'd seen as his greatest chance to make up for everything.

Then again, did he have to be an X-man? Hadn't Warren created a life outside of the X-men, a life to be proud of? David gripped the bars of the balcony and pressed his head against the cool metal. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to cry.

His father would have been proud of him no matter what he was doing. David couldn't help but feel resentment at being held back, but his reasons seemed a little less bitter now. He took a deep breath and pulled himself up.

David stumbled back into the hotel room. Remy was still fast asleep, but David didn't give him more than a second glance. He felt his hands shaking as he grabbed the phone, the clumsy way that they dialed the familiar digits.

He wasn't sure what he wanted to say to his father. He wasn't sure if he was going to apologize, if he even should. Maybe it was enough to tell him that he loved him, that he wasn't angry anymore. All he knew was that he needed to talk to him.

David waited as the phone continued to ring and wiped the blood away from his nose. At last someone picked up.

"Dad?" David asked.

"David?"

David felt his heart sink. It wasn't his father: it was Scott. He sounded exhausted, but surprised.

"Yeah," David said, "Sorry, I know it's late. But, uh, could I talk to my father?"

There was a long pause on the other end. David waited, feeling something like apprehension creep into him.

"David, a lot's happened," Scott said, "We meant to contact you, we really did-"

"Scott, what happened?" David said.

He could feel his heart pulsing cold blood through him, could feel a headache starting up. When Scott spoke away his words seemed distant. David listened and responded, running on auto pilot, his hand gripping the side of the bed.

After a while Scott hung up. David let the phone fall to the floor. It dangled slowly on its cord. He had no idea what to do or where to go. Everything was sinking and the blood kept dribbling from his nose.

The door opened and Kurt stepped in. His brother was grinning, but the grin faded when he saw David.

"David, what happened?" he asked.

David looked up. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and stood up.

"Wake Remy up and call the girls," he said, "We have to get to Westchester."

"Why?" Kurt asked, worried, "What happened?"

David swallowed.

"Dad's been poisoned. He's comatose."

* * *

_**A/N: **I've wanted to write Kurt and David as brothers since I wrote the ending to Sins of the Father, but I was trying to keep those stories in line with movie canon, so I couldn't do that. However, I thought that it would be an interesting look at what was sure to be a complicated relationship. Writing the dynamic between these two was really exciting, as well as how the universe developed around their childhood. Kurt is fairly straightforward, the kind of person who would look up to his older brother. As for David, in __the cartoon X-men Evolution David was portrayed as a rather more bitter character, and I wanted to explore that resentment. _

_Alex and Lorna were fun to follow-up on, especially having Angel finally break free from the Brotherhood to join Lorna. Magneto's continued complicated feelings about his daughter are an ongoing problem, and one that we'll see more of. As for Lorna and Alex's children, some of my readers might be familiar with Luna, who I've used in the past. In comic-verse she's Quicksilver's daughter and Lorna's niece. Since Lorna never had any children I enjoy using Lorna. As for Max, he's based on the mutant Magnus from the Exiles, one of my favorite X-men comics. In another universe he's Magneto's son. _

_I am a fan of Siryn/Deadpool as some of you know, and I wanted to mention the two of them in this story. Sharon is based on the mutant Catseye: she's not Hank's daughter but she seemed to share several characteristics with him. While her feelings for David is something written for this fic, her friendship with Rahne is not. I look forward to seeing you all again in two weeks with "Legacy," the final story in this series. _

_Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and a special shoutout for Princess-Amon-Rae, whylime, Fanatic4Fiction, Knight of Wings, C. S. Tolkien, Chocolate and caramel, and Orihime-San! And thank you to everyone who reviewed anonymously!_


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